Fatum Lamia
by Nerdette Love
Summary: A vampire film star, a human librarian and a paranormal phenomena. When a vampire finds his mate, how possessive will he become? Past horrors, a little boy and a destined romance come together to tell a tale of the joining of two broken souls. E/B
1. Preface

**.Preface.**

Our destiny is predetermined.

Set by the Gods above, not to be meddled with or changed. We are merely a mortal human with our life being oh-so fragile and delicate.

We cannot change destiny; we can try to control it and hope to guess what it is... However, in truth we will never know, and will always be blind.

We are controlled by destiny, against our wishes and hopes.

We have a path; a path we are hopeless to follow.

I have a destiny; a destiny I intend to fight against.

I am Isabella Marie Swan, the girl fighting for my life with every waking breath.

_The battle has only just begun..._


	2. The Library

**Title update: Fatum Lamarium into Fatum Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**_  
><em>The Only Exception by Paramore_  
><em>Clair Du Lune by Debussy_  
><em>Save the World by Swedish House Mafia

**~Chapter One~**

.The Library.

_**BPOV**_

My life is mundane and boring. It's not filled with excitement and fun, it's simple, and that's the way I like it. My life reflects my species — we are far from unique — the only special trait we can bring to our name is the astonishing capabilities of our bodies.

The brilliance of the human mind and body, the way in which we can defend ourselves from infection and how our brain interprets information. Still — our lives, no matter how much we may say otherwise, are not filled with wonder and excitement.

We move from one day to the next, always in hope of something new; that something that never comes.

For many, their greatest hope for life is to become rich and famous. It's something that grows and festers in our brains from early childhood. A dream for some, a reality for others. There is also the alternative, marrying somebody rich and famous in order to further our own claim to fame. Neither appeal to me, as I am one of those countless few who doesn't care.

If I achieve fame and wealth then I will not be disgruntled, but it's not an ambition. And my heart is already full with love — my love for all things literature. Try as people may, the world of film and television have never appealed to me, and the power of words is entrenched in my heart.

Another hope, being part of the female population, is to mate with a vampire. I said the word; it's out. Vampire. The paranormal does exist. Dracula and his ilk however, no longer reside only in novels: they rule our lives. The paranormal is all around — well vampires at least; they are the common in today's society. Although I don't come across many of them, most are rich, famous and have a well established power line within the world.

So mating with a vampire is every girls' dream, except for mine. I see them as something to avoid. You see, it's females they mate with, as it's been discovered we can carry their children; we can make a hybrid child between us, part human, part vampire. Although, the birthing process alone could lead to our deaths, with the vampire spawn eating us from the inside out. If we're lucky enough for our vampire to fully love us as an equal mate, they may turn us. If not, we'll die from loss of blood and a battered, broken body after the events of pushing out a rabid leech.

Sucking blood, never sleeping and endless amount of time stuck with one person who can control your every movement. It doesn't seem all that appealing when one puts it into context. Such a nice way to live.

Vampires like control, and that's no different in regards to mating. Male vampires are controlling, dominating and down right scary. I've never seen a mated female without her mate; it's an impossibility.

Not only because the human becomes a love- sick puppy that jumps as high as the vampire wants her to, but the vampire won't allow his mate from sight. I say my existence is boring and mundane, but I'd rather live my life in simplicity than have it watched and monitored by the entire vampire population.

I have nothing against the vampire world, and to even say I did, would leave me in an extremely tricky situation, as I would be persecuted by the vampire population for going against them. I'm just not ready to be a statistic and I don't think I ever will be. Nor do I want to marry and be a happy housewife. I want to be an independent woman with a successful career.

I hope to be a writer, not just somebody who shuffles books in a library for her day job. I love the job now, it's just not a lifelong career. I also, really hate my boss. He's a vampire, bitter and resentful to the whole world, vampires and humans alike. He isn't one of the successful ones, he's the director of a library. He makes my life a living hell.

I count myself as lucky because I only work three days a week and the occasional evening. The rest of my time is split between college and the foster home where I help teach the orphans to read and write. I wanted to be able to share my love for literature with those less fortunate, so three nights a week I head down there to sit with the children.

Sometimes I read to them, sometimes I help them read and sometimes I teach them to write. It makes me feel so much better when I see their faces light up as we delve into the magical world of a book together and experience an adventure far away from the dank, dull walls of the foster home.

Not only is it their escape, but also mine. It is my chance to get out of my life even just for a short time, the power of words, enabling me to no longer feel encased in reality and the realm of existence. This was something that nothing other than a book could give me.

Tonight is one of those nights; after I finish work I will go straight there, skipping tea to sit with the children. Tonight I will bring sweets for them that I picked them up on my way to work.

We plan to read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire because the children adored the first three books and had been pestering me to read the next one over the past few nights. I can't resist their sweet little innocent faces, and to know I bring them pleasure from simply reading makes me feel elated.

I turn back to the computer to scan the last book on the large stack of returns back into the system. It takes the old, outdated computer several minutes to process the return, and when it does, the computer seems to let out a sigh. I pat the screen affectionately.

"All done."

Talking to my computer is probably insane, but it keeps me entertained. I have nobody here to talk to, and as much as I love my books, sitting and scanning them onto a computer is not my favourite activity. I haven't spoken to many people today, and it's a rarity that I do, but I enjoy the peace, quiet and solace that the library offers me, as well as the decent amount of money it provides to keep my rent up.

I take in the library for these few moments: the big wooden desk that curves around before me, the sets of wooden tables and plush chairs, placed just before the doors, and the numerous large, tall and fat wooden bookcases that line the walls.

It's filled with books: old and new, worn and torn, the fusty smelling ones, those well creased spines and thumbed pages. I love an old book; the whole feeling of having something old in your hands. Then, the new books with the fresh scent and pristine white pages — still as enchanting.

There are some out there who don't quite care for a book, preferring their new e-readers and kindles — such horrific inventions — to a good book in one's palm. It's an unforgivable act to purchase such a device.

I turn to the large pile of books, now stacked on the desk, and pick up six or seven, needing to be placed in the classical section. I know I should use the trolley, but I can't be bothered to go into the office and face James.

He'll most likely be in a foul mood, and it's my life's mission to avoid him as much as physically possible. After all, it's only six or seven books; I can't do much damage with them.

A quick scout around and I see no sight of James, so I pick up the books and manoeuvre myself around the desk with a surprising ease. After all, my middle name might as well be "clumsy" because I can barely walk five metres without face planting the floor. My acquired gene, of being unable to remain upright, is certainly unfortunate; it means I am incapable of being lady like. I continually find myself in awkward situations because I can't walk without tripping over air or my feet.

I shuffle carefully around a table and see him. A fairly tall guy, walking in through the entrance.

A black hoodie covering his body, the hood pulled up over his hair and partially concealing his face. He has a pair of expensive looking sunglasses, covering most of his upper face. He walks with an almost predatory edge, each long stride taking him further into the library.

His very presence screams danger, with his back sightly hunched and his hands stuffed into his pockets. I ca see that he's trying to avoid attention, and any other person would usually pass by without my knowledge. Yet, this total stranger has drawn me into his trap, and I am helpless to follow.

Luckily, he's heading in the direction of the classical section, so I have a reasonable excuse to follow, as not only do I have my books, but I'm required to tell him to remove his hood. This is something, I am not particularly looking forward to asking him to do. He's one of those people who looks like they may eat you alive on first glance.

I take a deep breath, lift my shoulders and shake my hair out so it falls around my face — after all, a girl needs something to hide in if the situation turns nasty. Making sure I have a secure grip on the books, I march down after the man, following as best I can, knowing he went somewhere in the direction of the classical section.

I know it seems that I am making a judgement based solely upon appearance — something I hate to do, even though it's human nature. One cannot deny that many a time, we make assumptions at first glance. However, I find it hard to not prejudge a tall man, dressed in a large amount of black. The same one I'm currently following into a deserted part of the library, alone, with my only form of self-defense occupied with a load of books. Not one of the smartest decisions I've made in my existence. But what's the worst he can do, kill me or bite me?

My stomach rolls at the thought: I didn't even take into consideration the idea of him being a vampire. I shudder, but continue with my quest, until I feel something heavy land on my shoulder, preventing me from continuing forward.

I let out a squeak and jump into the air in fright.

"Why are you following me?" a deep, husky voice asks. I let out the breath that I had been unintentionally holding. I feel my hands shake.

"I wasn't," I manage to reply, my voice barely audible. I'm surprised he can even hear me.

"I'm not stupid, so answer my question." His voice is deeper and rougher, almost a growl.

I feel extraordinarily vulnerable with my back to him and his hand applying a harsh amount of pressure into my shoulder blade.

"You need to remove your hood Sir," I squeaked. Then I bit down on my lip, to try and think of something else other than the excruciating pain in my shoulder.

"Oh." The voice behind me turns lighter and I feel the pressure on my shoulder relax before being removed completely. I sigh in relief and I feel my body sag a little. I know it's the perfect opportunity to turn around, so I do because he's receded from my personal space and removed his hand, that had been restricting my movements, it leaves me free to move around. Stepping away from the stranger quickly and taking in his now furrowed eyebrows and frowning lips.

"Can you please remove your hood, Sir?" I say again. My voice stronger, yet it still sounds like that of a child.

"Sure. I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Did I hurt you?" For some bizarre reason, I feel the need to lie. I don't know why, but I can't look away.

"No, I'm fine," I say, and I _am_feeling fine, except I know I'll have a bruise there in the morning.

"Good." He nods his head and his hands move up to pull back his hood, allowing it to drop away and reveal his hair. It's a brilliant bronze that shimmers even in the dull light of the room. Seeing it makes me wish my hair could be something other than dull, mousy brown.

Then I take in the style a messy disarray of strands, it looks like he's just had incredibly hot sex, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks at thinking such a thought. I allow my gaze to linger on his hair for a little longer than socially polite as I think about running my fingers through the thick locks and kissing him senseless. I blink rapidly, stunned at how a thought of wanting to kiss a total stranger could cross my mind.

My gaze finally drifts down to his lips to see them twitching into a grin rather than a disapproving frown. I don't know how I can tell his eyes are on me, as he's still wearing his sunglasses but I feel them.

His eyes.

Completely and solely upon me, it makes me feel all hot and heated inside, like my insides are about to leak onto the carpet if I don't jump him, immanently. We continue to just stand there, staring. I feel exposed and vulnerable, as though he's mentally undressing me. Now; that thought is totally preposterous.

I want to pull my eyes away and get on with my job, but I am physically unable to do so, and it scares me. He's weaving some kind of spell upon me and I have been thoroughly caught by it.

I feel my grip on the books slipping as my palms become a little sweatier under his intense gaze. I feel them fall from my hands, but it doesn't register in the far depths of my mind, nor does it seem to register with this perfect stranger before me that these books are falling onto his feet.

I blink several times as I feel my eyes start to hurt from refraining to blink. It's as if I don't believe such a man could be placed before my eyes. H has to be a figment of my imagination, but there he stands, still before me, even after I've blinked.

"Isabella?" A stern voice calls to me from behind the man. The voice breaks the magic around us, ending the spell that had been weaving between us and giving me the chance to tear my eyes away from this god. I pull them away only for them to land on a dragon breathing, angry man, also known as my bitter, vampire boss, James. _Oh shit! _

"Yes James?" I cringed inside.

"How many damn times do I have to tell you to use the trolley? Now pick those books up and take them back to the desk before they're totally ruined. And stay at the desk. I would have thought a book lover like yourself could take care of a few books." He sneers at me and I feel my insides go cold.

"Yes James." I nod and bend to pick the several books that are now scattered at my feet. I cringe again when I see how I've allowed the books to sit after landing in a in a way that has made them crumpled and bent. I would never allow my books to get into such a condition, but here I am, throwing library books around.

Not only do I feel the anger of James weighing down upon me, but also my own disappointment and annoyance pressing against my conscious. I know now that I'd rather face James' wrath in the office than here, now, because saying he's angry does not even begin to cover it. He's absolutely livid, and I may be just the slightest part scared. I've heard that he's had a little taste of his employees before. I instinctively raise my hand to my neck, wanting to protect myself.

"Isabella, stop stalling, and use both hands to pick up the damn books."

I hunch my shoulders and drop down onto the floor in a scramble to pick up the books, but a pair of pale, large, masculine hands that don't belong to James reach them before I do. I look up to meet the eyes of the hooded stranger.

"Allow me," he says.

"Thanks for the offer, but please, let me, it's my fault, and my job." I plead with my eyes for him to allow me.

I don't want to face more problems with James over letting a client pick up books that were my mess. He seems to understand my need to pick up the books, and nods. He stands, but doesn't removed himself from my personal space. He invades every inch of it, yet I no longer feel threatened. I feel perfectly safe; safe from James, and safe from anything the entire world could throw at me.

I know James will never cause harm to me in front of anybody else. He's actually never touched me before, but he's been in a foul mood all day and I may have just been the person to push _the_button. It would be just my luck that he would end up taking his anger out on me.

After stacking up the rest of the books with shaking hands, I get up onto my feet and pick the pile of books from the ground and scurry off without a backwards glance at neither James nor the stranger. When I reach the desk I feel a wave of relief wash through me, although this doesn't last for long; as I know James will appear in a few mere moments to finish dealing with me.

I place the books down on the desk, back into the place that I'd first started out my journey, beside the piles of other returned books. I make my way around the desk and flop into my chair, feeling defeated and scared. No longer do I feel like the strong, independent woman that I strive to be, but a vulnerable child in need of protection.

Regardless, I'm not a child and I have nobody to protect me, so I'm merely vulnerable and very scared. This feeling doesn't sit well with me — to be afraid of somebody — but James isn't a regular somebody, he's a vampire. He's evolutionary designed to be stronger, harder and much more scary. In a fight between us, I'd be dead within seconds. Not that I intend to get into a fight with James.

I flinch when I hear hands slap down against the desk and I timidly look up into the face of James. His eyes are still angry, but his jaw is relaxed and his lips aren't set in a frown. It raises just the tiniest bit of hope inside of me.

"It seems you have made a good impression. God knows how, Isabella. The man you were just with requires your services and you will stay until you are no longer needed. Do not mess up." He growls and stalks off.

"What's his name?" I call out to James, but he's already disappeared, looking for his next victim to inflict his foul mood upon.

I feel sorry for these potential targets, but I'm not about to go save them. I'm an opportunity kind of girl, and this is one I'm taking with both hands.

I jump up from my chair and scuttle off in the direction of the classical section once again. This time I'm not filled with dread, but more of a queer kind of excitement.

Just as I'm heading into the classical section, I spot a corner of carpet before me that is upturned slightly, but it's too late for my brain to register. My foot catches and I feel myself tumbling through the air, like many other times, regardless of how simple things may seem. I let out a little cry of shock, and yet, I never hit the ground because a pair of strong, firm arms wrap around me and pull my body upright.

I look up into the face of the stranger who seems to have once again saved me, the frown that had been etched on his face has now been replaced by a crooked grin. A grin that makes my knees go weak and my insides go all warm and fuzzy.

Had he not grabbed onto me, I would have fallen to the floor for sure. I was totally out of sorts, and I felt like I was no longer in control of my life. This stranger whose name I did not yet know, has totally tipped my life upside down in such a short amount of time.

"Thank you." I breathe out as he pulls me firmly to my feet. Slowly, and almost reluctantly, his grip on me slackens and I step out of his grasp. I feel almost sad at the thought of no longer being held in his arms—they made me feel secure and safe; such an odd thought for a perfectly random stranger.

"You're welcome," he says, his voice deep and husky. I drop my eyes to the ground, not being able to hold steady against his intensity.

"You need my help?" I squeak again, and if he wasn't standing before me, I would hit myself; I have been reduced to squeaking now. It seems so silly and infantile.

"Yes. You can help me browse for a good book." He reaches out with his hand, brushing his fingertips gently across the book bindings. I can't help but ask the question, it gnaws at the back of my mind. Having little brain-mouth filter doesn't ease my predicament even with James' warning, so I spit it out.

"How do you know I have good taste?" I turn away towards the books as I feel myself blush. I pretend to scan the titles, but the names all blend into one as I await his answer. What I do not expect is his hand upon my lower back.

"I can just tell," he says, his voice even huskier than before A shiver runs through my body.

"What type of book are you looking for?" I gasp. He removes his hand from my body.

"A good one, Isabella." He chuckles. I feel a tingling deep inside of my body as my full name rolls of his tongue, sounding incredibly sexy. Wait... how did he know my name?

_Oh_. _James._

"I'll try, but I'm not promising anything. The classics are good, if you like that kind of thing. Personally, I'm quite the nerdy type of girl; I like my science-fiction and horror, but unfortunately I'm also a sucker for romance." I smile weakly, feeling my stomach clench as the embarrassment floods through me for saying I'm nerdy and I like romance all in one sentence.

"Oh, and please, call me Bella. May I ask your name, Sir?" I sigh, knowing as much as I love the sound of my full name from those heaven-sent, sinfully wicked lips, I much prefer my shortened name.

"None of that 'Sir' nonsense. Bella, I believe you will succeed, if the books you've just categorised are anything to go by. Now, if I tell you my name, promise not to squeal on me."

I turn to him with a questioning brow. "I don't squeal," I say, indignant.

He laughs again with that deep, throaty chuckle.

"I think you do, Miss ...?" He waits for me to answer, and like a horse to water I follow without question and _even_take a drink.

"Swan, Miss Swan. And you are yet to tell me your name. Stop stalling." I giggle as I move further into the depths of the library.

I make my way through the rows of high book cases, feeling like any second they will reach out and devour me when we reach the deepest, darkest depths. He follows with a casual saunter and an air of grace and mystery that seem to surround him like a cloak.

"Cullen, Edward Cullen." He sighs as if waiting for an onslaught of screaming. I turn to him, totally unaffected.

"See, no squealing girl here. Not quite the big star you thought you were?"

He looks bemused and confused. "So you've never heard of me?" He seems to want to persist that I should squeal like a young girl.

"No. Should I have?" I pull out a book that juts out amongst the rest. _Wuthering Heights._

"Well, I _am _a Hollywood star." He grins crookedly, again as if expecting the cogs in my head to finally click into place. But today, he has no such luck, as the cogs fail to turn.

"Never heard of you, but it would be highly unlikely that I would. After all, I don't own a TV and I only go to the cinema to see the occasional science-fiction film," I drop my gaze from the perfect creature before me in embarrassment at my admittance of not owning a television. It was something that had never bothered me before and yet, before this man, I feel almost embarrassed that he could be a star and I don't even know who he is.

"Interesting girl you are, Miss Swan. A very unique individual. I can't say I've starred in any science-fiction film, so indeed, it's unlikely that you'll have heard of me. It is a great genre, though. Which is your favourite?" He gives me a cheeky smile.

My cheeks blush under his piercing gaze again, but this time I no longer look away. I hold his stare firmly, trying to see behind the dark sunglasses that cover his face. Wanting to avoid further attention, I question him.

"What, are those sunglasses Gabbana Dolce?" I don't usually take great interest in the world of fashion unless it's a book about fashion, in which case I _still_wouldn't be likely to read it.

"No. Ray-Bans." His lips stretched into a broad smile.

"Isn't that just another name for sunglasses?" I feel thoroughly confused now.

This time, he doesn't just smile, he full-on laughs, bending over and holding onto his knees while he lets out a long, deep laugh that resounds around the bookcases.

"My dear Isabella, it seems I have a lot more than just films to educate you on. It's not Gabbana Dolce, but Dolce & Gabbana and Ray-Ban is yet another designer." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

That's when I catch the sight of them, those two, long, pointed, canines poking out from between his lips. Or at least I think I do. It's hard to tell when he closes his mouth so quickly.

"Educate me?" I squeak, feeling thoroughly insulted. I try not to dwell on the idea that the man before me is indeed a vampire.

"Indeed, you are innocent to the world." He grins, but does not reveal his teeth. It makes me all the more suspicious that I have a vampire before me.

After all, how could anybody but a successful vampire manage to shut James up and get him to follow orders. I feel a queasiness form deep in the pit of my stomach; vampires have never sat well with me. My own experience with the supernatural creatures is not one I like to recall, and the only other exposure to vampires has been working with James or seeing mated couples fling themselves at one another. Neither enhancing my view of the "wonderful" supernatural. Scary, not being able to make a choice. Mating is scary because it changes things; I don't like change.

Mating is meant to be instantaneous and you know as soon as you see the guy, he's the one. So everything in your life, is down to that one single moment, when it changes. To think, that one person can hold you to the world, so irrevocably, as they are the reason you need to exist. You're built for each other, designed by the Gods above. We didn't have that connection though, so I can put any worries, that this man before me, is my mate, if he's even a vampire.

"Isabella?" His voice calls to me and breaks me out of my thoughts.

"I'm perfectly well educated. I'm studying for a degree." I bark out.

His lips are quirking into a smile. "I never said anything about your intellect, Miss Swan. Merely your view of the world has not been opened up as far as it could and, I intend to broaden that view."

"I know some designers." I defend myself, not wanting to look so naive to the world before this  
>god-like man. The word "man" doesn't seem to fit he who stands before me, as he is more than a mere man, he is a magnificent creature. Whether he is good or bad, I cannot tell.<p>

"Care to enlighten me, Miss Swan?" I hear the humour in his voice as he asks.

I feel like a child again, as this time I am the one in class who hasn't been listening and has just been caught out by the teacher when I have no answer to offer. It makes my insides rattle and my inner self rise to the challenge as never before have I not had an answer for a question.

"Converse, Vans, that woman ... Chanel, and there's that guy, McQueen ... or something." I am thoroughly proud of myself for a very short amount of time.

"I see. I have been corrected, marginally. It definitely reflects upon your personality, Miss Swan. It's Alexander McQueen, and he is now sadly dead." He doesn't look at all disappointed by this revelation, although he's probably had quite some time to come to terms with it.

I frown and fold my arms. "What's that meant to mean?"

"Not an insult dearest Bella, merely that your choices in life reflect your personality." He brings out that crooked, knee weakening smile. The one that makes my brains cells turn to goo, and my blood boil. He allows those luscious, plump, peachy lips to stretch further this time and this gives me no doubt about what I saw before. There are fangs. They peek out from his lips and dig into his full, bottom lip. The whiteness of them sparkles in the light and they catch my attention. It means I cannot look anywhere else but at the fangs; I'm entranced.

"You have fangs." I feel my head start to spin as I point at the gleaming, white canines that are protruding out from his upper gums.

"Isabella?" His voice doesn't sound like before. Now, it's high pitched and full of concern, and yet, so very far away.

"What?" I ask groggily but I can't see him before me. He's no longer in my line of sight and as much as I try to see him, I really can't find him.

"Why have you disappeared?" I groan and then I reach out with my hand blindly to try and place where he has disappeared to. My hand comes into contact with something smooth, hard and cool, like a marble statue, but I realise it's his face when I touch something soft, plump and wet.

His lips.

I feel the fang peeking out as my thumb brushes across it. My head starts to swirl again and I quickly remove my hand, not wanting to think about fangs, blood and me being very, very, alone with him.

"I haven't, Isabella. You passed out. Now, can you open your eyes for me?"

"No, I don't want to," I say. Then I attempt to bat away the light that's now blinding me, shining into my eyes with such an intensity that I can't help but try to turn away, but steel girders I recognise as his arms hold me locked in place until I manage to open my eyes.

I am not disappointed. In true Hollywood fashion, Edward is leaning over me, his beautiful, defined face hovering only inches away from mine and his glasses no longer situated on his face, so I am met by the dazzling eyes of this creature; golden eyes that shock me into silence.

I feel like I can see into his soul; it's like we connect on a whole new level.

I blink, and his glasses are once again set in place like they've never been removed. Creating a shield between us so I can no longer see those eyes of his, so I cannot see into his soul and know whether he is good and pure or full of wicked intentions. I have a craving deep within me to gaze upon those golden orbs again. I itch to move my hands up to his face and pull his glasses away. To make him as vulnerable and open, as I am to him.

Golden means good. Golden means good. I repeat the line like a mantra in my head as I try to veer myself away from the verge of hysteria. I'm too close to a vampire, far closer than I'd ever want to be again.

"Are you feeling okay?" His hand moves up to caress my cheek. His touch is cool and it sends a calming warmth throughout my whole body. Meanwhile, my brain is screaming for me to run, to hide, to cower. The heat in my cheek — the spot where his thumb moves back and forth — and rushes out through my bloodstream with a cascading effect, keeping all my nerves on edge and leaving me feeling sinful and alive.

"I'm fine." I frown when I realise that I'm lying horizontal across the floor.

"How did I end up here?" I point towards the ground and recognise I'm in the middle of the two bookcases, flat on my back, with Edward's whole body hovering over me, invading all of my personal space.

"You passed out." He frowns as I make an "oh" sound.

"I've never passed out before. Can you help me up?" I feel entirely awkward in my current situation.

"Of course." He jumps up with a lighting speed and pulls me up in the process. I stumble against his chest due to the extreme force he exerts upon me when drawing me to my feet. He catches me easily and holds me still, stopping me from face planting the floor on the other side of him.

"Quite the clumsy one aren't we, Miss Swan."

I think I hear him say, "You'll certainly keep me on my toes." I can't be truly sure though. I shudder as I step away from him, wanting to put distance between the two of us.

"Edward, are you a v-v-vampire?" I'm afraid of the answer, even though I know the truth.

"Yes, Isabella, and you are my mate." His words are clear, meaning I could not have misheard but still, my mind can't take it in.

"No, no, I'm not," I call out. In blind panic, I step further away, my hands flailing wildly in the air. It only now comes to my attention that I don't know what happened to the book in my hands, but I can't bring it upon myself to care. I'm too taken up with his stark declaration that I could somehow be connected to a creature of my nightmares.

I feel my back hit the bookcase behind me, not having realised I'd moved back so far. I watch in horror as Edward stalks towards me, full of grace, but like a predator to his prey. Him moving closer didn't ease my stomach or fears in the slightest.

"Yes. You are, Isabella. Why else would I save your ass from James?" He growls, and his fangs become larger. They become more pronounced now as they drop down from his closed mouth, resting over his bottom lip and looking incredibly menacing.

"Because you're nice?" I squeak. His arms come up to rest on either side of my head, encasing me against the bookcase. His legs move to either side of mine, stopping all my movement. I feel like a trapped chicken.

In that moment of panic, I do the only thing I can do: run. I pull myself free from his now slackened legs and duck out of his arms. I surprise myself by not falling once, and I take off without a backward glance down the aisles of books, back to the main desk.

I reach the front desk, my brain in overdrive. Diving onto the top desk, I reach over for my bag, and take off again, knocking over many things in my way as I haul the bag onto my shoulder.

"Isabella!" I hear his strong, masculine voice cry out to me. It makes my heart clench just the smallest amount. Something I am helpless to deny as he sounds like he's in pain, but I know I can't look back. I just keep on running, a frenzy of fear overtaking my every thought, consuming me to the point that I don't take in anything around me.

* * *

><p>I reach the foster home in senseless time, cutting my ten minute walk down to a three minute run. I thank the heavens for Angela signing me up to the gym and the workouts that I'd recently been putting myself through there.<p>

I slip inside the door of the foster home, glance around and see nobody in sight. Once inside, I relax a little, checking my watch to see that I'm perfectly on time. I can't be sure how long I'd spent with Edward, but it seems that time was literally consumed.

At least I don't have to face the wrath of James for not staying to clear up after work with him, as he is not the understanding type, and telling him I ran from a vampire most likely would not go down well.

"Auntie Bella!" One of the little boys who I spend most nights with cries out from the playroom. A huge grin spread across his little face and his dimples show as he smiles, making him all the more adorable.

"Riley!" I coo. I open up my arms, needing the comfort just as much as he does. He runs forward and launches himself into my arms, and I laugh and stumble slightly as his little body wraps around my own.

He buries his face in my neck and his little hands clutch on for dear life, as though I'm about to vanish. It makes me sad to think this is the most comfort he'll ever receive, and that he'll grow up in the foster home his whole life.

Riley has ADHD – Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder – which makes him hyperactive most of the time, and it puts off most potential families, which is truly sad since he's a brilliant little boy, and when I'm about, he's so good. It's said his mother appeared one night, seemingly insane, and pushed him into the hands of the carers at the foster home before fleeing.

They said she disappeared like she'd never been there and the only thing they recalled was a wild mane of red hair and a locket she left for Riley with a heart and a "R" inside. It breaks my heart to think anybody could ditch such an adorable little boy.

I'd adopt him myself if I had a stable environment and the time to care for him, but being a student, I can barely support myself.

I bring it upon myself to take him out as much as possible and visit as many times as I can, just to make up for my inability in not being able to make him my own. I know I shouldn't have favourites, but he's found his way into my heart and I can't bring it out of myself to take him out. He's my comfort as much as I am his.

With regret, I lower him back down to the ground and his little bottom lip juts out in a pout. I have to hold back the tears at the heartbreaking sight.

"Is it story time tonight, Auntie Bella?" He takes my hand and leads me towards the playroom, a smile now having replaced his sorrowful little frown.

"Indeed it is, Riley." I reach out and ruffle his hair affectionately.

"Auntie Bella!" The chorus goes up around the room as Riley and I enter the playroom.

All of the children, are placed around on the carpet with Charlotte, one of the helpers. I smile at her as all the children come running at me. They fought for a place in line to get a hug, or just to clutch part of me. I bend down with a chuckle and draw as many as possible into a hug. Feeling their little dirt covered hands clutching onto me, I feel centred and calm.

Finally, after a warm welcoming, I make my way to the front of the room where I reach into my bag and pull out the sweets I've bought for the children. I look to Charlotte, who nods her head with a smile.

"I brought you all some candy for being good little girls and boys." I chuck them to Charlotte to hand out as the children make a chorus of "thanks" and "you're the best Auntie Bella!"

I smile in appreciation, knowing that in my heart I feel a little bit of weight lifted from my conscious knowing I can bring joy to others.

I sit down on the carpet, bringing myself closer to the children's height and putting less of a distance between us. I connect to these children and they are why I'm not materialistic — I don't care about possessions because I often see children who have nothing of their own.

I drag my satchel over towards me as the children now all begin to settle down, having grabbed their sweets and grouped 'round on the carpet.

I grab the Harry Potter book from my bag as the children watch in apt fascination, their sole focus upon me. It made me smile, but it made my heart sink at the same time to know something of such insignificance to me as taking out a book could bring such joy to these children.

A lump formed in my throat as I saw how thrilled the children were, at me simply reading them a book and after my emotional day with Edward's appearance, it made me want to burst into tears.

Thinking about his name just set my teeth on edge and induced a feeling of unease in the pit of my stomach. I glanced to the window to check for vampire sighting and to my satisfaction, I found none.

I dropped my head as I turned away from the window, realising how I've turned into somebody from my worst nightmares: not a vampire, but a paranoid, jumpy woman who can't keep herself calm.

I take a deep breath and try to forget earlier incidents. Not an easy feat, but I do try to push the mishap to the back of my mind while I spend my time here with the children. I don't want to taint something that brings such joy to me with thoughts of vampires.

I take a firm grasp of the Harry Potter book and open it to first chapter.

I feel the smile that always appears when I am about to enter the world of the characters spread across my face, making my cheeks rise and my jaw protest a little with the movement. Having spent most of my day frowning or forcing a smile, to be able to smile so freely now is making my body protest.

The children have now captured my attention, meaning nothing can tear me away from our magical time now, not even vampires. I look at the children, and watch their whole attitude change as they see me open the book.

"Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire..." I breathe out the words reverently, trying to infuse my excitement into my voice. All the children gasp in excitement. I lean forward as they try to hear the first few words.

* * *

><p>"Well, everyone, it's late, so it's time for bed." I sigh as I close Harry Potter at chapter five.<p>

A chorus of sighs, whines and moans go up around the room, and I'm faced with many faces of angry children. I smile as sweetly as I can. "I'll be back tomorrow night to continue reading." This creates excitement for the children and results in an immediate cheer. They are momentarily hyper before Charlotte declares bedtime again.

"I want Auntie Bella to put me to bed." Riley folds his arms and sits down, his bottom lip jutting out and his dimples forming as he puts on the most adorable pout.

I can't help but fall for his expression just the smallest amount. After all, Riley is my favourite, even if I shouldn't have favourites. I look to Charlotte, who is staring down at Riley — the last remaining child in the room – before she turns to me and nods.

"Come on Riley-kins." I coo and hold open my arms. He grins, bounding over quicker than I can think to jump up into my arms.

"My, you're getting to be a big boy." I groan a little as I shift his weight to the side so I can carry him up the stairs to his room.

"I am! I'm going to be five next week." Riley grins proudly, showing of his perfectly formed pearly whites.

"Ah, you are _going_to be a big boy." I grin back, feeling the happiness coursing through my body.

I've bought Riley a present for his birthday. It's a remote control car, and I probably shouldn't have bought it for him, since it's unfair to the other children, but when I saw the gleaming red car in the toy store window, I couldn't resist having to dip in and purchase it, knowing the car reflected Riley perfectly: bright, colourful and attention-seeking.

I make my way into his bedroom where I lower him into bed, having pulled down the covers first. I bend over, tucking him into bed and kissing his forehead.

"Sleep well Riley-kins and Auntie Bella will see you tomorrow." I feel the sadness of having to leave Riley here consume me as it always does when I say my goodbyes. I stop the tears from falling, needing to hold it together for Riley.

"Night, night Auntie Bella. I love you." He turns over and drops of with ease into a peaceful slumber. I drop my hand lightly onto his head and murmur.

"As I love you Riley-kins, I'll make you mine someday. I promise." Before I swiftly leave the room and head downstairs. I pick up my bag, stuffing in the Harry Potter book, call a quick goodbye to Charlotte and make my way out onto the street.

It's already dark, so I quickly hurry down the street in the direction of the apartment I share with Angela.

I keep my head down and grip my bag closely. I slip my hand inside my pocket and take a firm grip upon my pepper spray. As I make my way around a corner not far from my apartment, I feel a hand on my arm tug.

I yelp out a "help" in surprise and sharply move my elbow backwards, making it collide with something soft yet firm, where it is met by an "ouch." I turn around and squirt the pepper spray in the direction of my attacker, until I realise it's Angela.

"Shit, Angela! I'm so sorry, I didn't realise — are you okay?" I quickly grip hold of her arm, looking around in concern.

Wondering whether Edward is out there.

Watching.

Stalking.

I can't shake the feeling of being watched and it is making me nervous and edgy, so I start pulling Angela as quickly as I can down the street towards our apartment, in need of getting into my safe, secure apartment and needing to care for Angela.

"I'm fine. My eyes sting a little, but you had pretty bad aim, Bella." She chuckles, and I drag her all the more faster. Now extremely aware of the creeping darkness and unseen eyes from the dark spots around, I feel my paranoia heightening by the moment. I pull Angela firmer against my body, supporting her weight and guiding her along as she clutches her eyes, which are now watering.

We reach the apartment, and I shove Angela gently inside before bolting the door, locking it, sliding on the catch and making sure everything is secure as it can get.

Angela looks at me with surprise, her eyes red and puffy and the tears still streaming but at least she manages to open them.

"Sit down, I'll get you a cool flannel." I rush of into the kitchen to get ice and a cool flannel for her eyes, hoping it'll take down the swelling, because seeing her with big puffy eyes for the next few days will not ease help to ease my guilt in the slightest.

"How're the ribs?" I'm acutely aware of the fact that she must be agony after my surprise assault.

"Not bad, now why are you locking us in like we're about to be attacked?" She sighs and leans back on the couch, covering her eyes with the cool flannel. I frown and shift my weight awkwardly.

"I'm not, Ang." I turn away, heading over to the window where the curtains are still wide open. My unease mounting to an even higher level.

"Right, Bella, so you just slide home every lock we posses for no reason at all?" I can just imagine her eyebrows raising at me in that moment.

"No reason at all, Ang. Just don't go letting any strangers into the house." I hear her grumble a reply but I am too preoccupied with the window, which I have now reached, to care about her questions.

Looking out across the street, I see nothing, so I look down both directions, and feel a pair of eyes upon me, but still, I see nothing. I look back to the centre, reaching for the curtains to draw them closed.

I see him standing there, looking ready to kill. His hair still stuck up in every direction like he's got bed-head yet his eyes are shining out in the darkness, his glasses now removed. The golden orbs stare up at me with raw, livid emotion.

I find it hard to keep returning his stare, so with a gasp, I draw the curtains shut in one swift movement.

I lean back on the closed curtains so I feel the window pane against my back, and I sigh. Feeling my heart thud against my chest, I dare not allow myself to peek and see if he's still stood below the street light, staring up at my apartment.

When I woke up, the start of my day was like any other. I was an ordinary girl with a mundane and boring existence. I wasn't looking for anything exciting. Now, as I go to sleep, I know deep down my life can never be the same again. As I go to sleep, I am the mate of a vampire, and not just any, but the mate of a Hollywood vampire who's name I didn't know until he told me. I am the mate of a vampire I ran away from.

Currently I can be found in my room, locked away, hiding under my covers like a child in the place I ran to after avoiding not only my mate, but Angela. I know he's out there, waiting for me to emerge, and it's leaving me scared and afraid for what is to come.

I am truly and utterly fucked!

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Twilight nor any of it's characters. I don't think I need to say it again.

**Thank you's **to** busybee37 **and** Jasper's Woman **for always having faith in me.

Final point, a huge thank you to my new beta, **Her Mighty Ubergeekness, **who has taught me many new, wonderfully big words and how to use my grammar correctly.

**This chapter was reposted October 5th. **

Don't feel shy about leaving me a review!


	3. The Nightmare

**Title update: Fatum Lamarium into Fatum Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**  
>Beauty from Pain by Superchick<br>Cooler Than Me by Mike Posner  
>Goodbye by Avril Lavigne<p>

**~Chapter Two~**

.The Nightmare.

_**BPOV**_

I have always prided myself on my ability to rise above fears and irrationality. Fears are dangerous if left to fester and can eventually eat away at a person—gnaw at one's sanity.

Everybody is a victim of fear, and whether it manifests in different ways or not, it's always the same ending result: innate terror claws at the linings of one's stomach and the tendrils of darkness snake out into the depths of one's mind to take control and paralyze. It's a battle to push them down, block them out and prevent them from consuming you. I have passed nineteen years without having totally succumb to my fears. I fought them once and managed to escape with my life — barely.

Now, in my most vulnerable hour, in the darkness of slumber and with my body and mind both closed to the outside world, I know things are not well. Being barely aware of anything, my subconscious has risen to take control of my brain. It's hard to tell whether I am awake or asleep, hard to distinguish the truth to where I am. The confusion of the subconsciousness is something that truly scares me. The fears that I have pushed down into the dark depths of my mind are starting to surface.

My heart picks up speed as I see him standing there like an angel sent from heaven. As he stands upon the concrete paving slab, nobody can deny he looks like an angel, but an angel he is not. His shadow splays out behind him, looking dark and menacing. Not an angel from heaven, but one from the pits of hell.

My mind drifts. How long have I kept him waiting? Has he stood here all night? All day?

Sun rays beat down on his body, which is clad in black jeans, a dark t-shirt, and is molded against his body like a second skin, defining every line of those scrumptious abs. I take the moment to devour every immortal inch of his toned body for a mere moment before I wrench my eyes away. Lucifer has sent his minions to distract us with the delights of life, with the untouchable ones we most crave. I cannot afford for my mind to wander. He is the route of all evil — the walking undead.

His sunglasses, those things he calls Ray Bans, cover his face and those golden eyes. Golden eyes mean good. That mantra from yesterday rises to the forefront of my mind. Good means golden.

I frown as my eyes trail from his defined jaw to his pointy chin, up to linger on those big, peachy lips. They make me want to shove him up against a bush or lock him away in a room with me for eternity, just to ravage him. Lips that should be illegal. I feel myself grow more flustered at his thoughts, and the burning sensation in my cheeks indicate a blush. Once again, I've allowed him to crawl under my skin and ruffle my feathers. I don't have sexual thoughts about people, especially not vampires. I take a deep, calming breath trying to centre myself before I realise something feels off. Tension is high in the air and my stomach is twisting up in knots the bad kind, the run to the hills kind.

His hands are behind his back, obscuring my view of something.

_Thud. _

My heart beats hard against my chest. What's he hiding? I step to the side while trying to tilt my head sideways. He moves in perfect sync to obscure my view. Why has he moved? What's he done?

I gulp.

Pure, undiluted terror floods my bloodstream.

He crooks his finger at me.

"Come here, Isabella."

I take a step forward despite the voice in my head telling me to run, run from the predator as he looks at me like prey. I drag my feet against the floor and fight my inner compulsion, stopping mere inches before him. I take in his appearance again and notice the harsh lines of his mouth, the sinister feel of his aura.

"Take off your glasses." I want, no, _need_to see those eyes.

His lips twitch into a smirk whilst he reaches up and draws them down his face, using both of his pale hands, which are stained red. Blood red. Blood that smears and stains and drips off to form a puddle before his feet. His hands are coated in blood, almost drowning in it.

I take the moment to seek his eyes, to hope for golden. The cry is strangled in my throat as I see the bright, red orbs. Those beautiful golden orbs that represented all that was good and innocent are gone.

I know now he's from the pits of hell, with blood red eyes that scream terror in my mind. The cry breaks free while I stare on in disgust, my stomach rolling and protesting at the proximity between us. He k-killed a human and dares to say we're mates. I clutch a hand across my mouth, preventing the vomit rising in the back of my throat.

Automatically, my feet start propelling me backwards, separating me from this _monster_. He's like the rest, a no-good, blood-sucking vampire.

After a prolonged period of glaring at his eyes, feeling thoroughly sick, I turn to look away and there I see the body he has so casually discarded behind him. I can't tear my eyes away as I feel my body shake and shudder at the carelessly strewn limbs of the little lifeless form before me.

Riley.

His lively smile now gone, he looks so lifeless; completely and utterly dead. I rush forward towards him, crying out his name in a plea of desperate hope.

"Riley!"

I can't think about Edward. Not now, not _ever_.

I drag Riley's shell — that's what it is, empty of everything — onto my lap and then I cradle _my _Riley like the mother I never was.

I can't bring myself to care about the blood, even when it makes my head spin. When I want to fall flat on my face and let my eyes roll back in my head, all I can see is Riley. I can't leave him now in death, I wasn't here to protect him from Edward. He cannot be hurt again.

I screamed. "_No!"_

The tears pour down my face. I'm physically unable to look at Edward for fear of what I'll say. My stomach rebels against the sight of the blood that I see mixing with the waves of my tears. I feel my fight against the nausea begin to fail, and my eyes roll all the way back in my head. The deep red blood that has spilled across the ground sends me into the darkness of my mind.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and something else enclose around me; it's creating a sensation of suffocation. I gasp. I kick my leg out as I clutch blinding for Riley's body and I start to panic as I can't feel it. I reach further, grasping out and then—_whoosh._ The air from my lungs gives out as my body is crushed against a hard surface.

"Ah!"

"Bella. Bella! Wake up! It's just a dream." Someone shakes my body, breaking me from my sleep.

"He killed Riley." I sob and clutch at the lankets around me, trying to find him.

"Bella, what are you talking about?" I take a moment to look around. I realise I'm in my room. My messy, junk filled room, with the cases of books, the old wooden desk and the dirty clothes and bed quilts thrown around the room—no paving slab smeared with blood, no red eyed Edward, and certainly no dead Riley.

It _was_a nightmare. Merely the fear invading my brain as it preys on the insecurities that have been emerging. I take a deep calming breath and attempt to pull the covers away from my body. They had been suffocating me as they wrapped around my body.

"Why am I on the floor?" I groan as I pull myself out of the cocoon of blankets with Angela's help.

"You fell when I tried to wake you; sorry Bella." Angela smiles apologetically.

"Payback for the ribs and eyes." A little regretful smile crosses my face.

"It's okay, Bella." She offers me her hand and I gladly accept. I give a little sigh as I look around my room, realising how utterly dysfunctional it is for living in.

"I'm going to get some coffee." I groan and stumble out of my room, over the heaps of clothing. I was still in my small, white tank top and little black shorts which stop just below my butt. Perfect for sleeping in, since they don't tangle up around your body, but not ideal for going out in public.

I make my way through the hallway into the kitchen, feeling like a zombie and I barely register my surroundings on my quest for coffee. I hear Angela shout behind me.

"Bella, I made you some coffee, but you, umm, have a visitor."

Her voice sounds strange, a mixture of excitement and apprehension. What the hell? A visitor? Who could possibly be visiting me at this time in a morning? Or did I not hear right?

I carry on towards the coffee machine that is now in sight when a pale, white hand sticks out before me, holding up a pipping mug of coffee in my favourite mug. I allow my eyes to trail along the arm to find who it belongs to, up the extremely well defined body, until I eventually reach the face.

_Oh no!_

"Angela, what did I say about letting strangers in?" I stare at his face and feel my stomach roll over.

"But he's not a stranger Bella. Did you mean him? I mean, he's Edward Cullen," she yells from somewhere in the apartment.

I gulp.

"Yeah Ang, but we don't know him," I call back. Quickly I avert my eyes to the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Drink." He shoves it closer to me and I hesitantly take it from his hand, careful not to brush my skin against his.

"Thanks." I frown as I look at the coffee, wondering whether he's spit into it or something.

"I've not poisoned it, Angela made it." I can hear the frown in his voice and I have a great urge to take a drink to appease him, so I do.

Feeling the liquid run down my throat, I smile, knowing caffeine is just what I need this early in the morning. I let out a little sigh of content and close my eyes while I gulp down the coffee.

"Coffee isn't good for you." I gather he's speaking to me, so I open my eyes to stare at him.

"But it tastes good." I take the last sip of my coffee and move over to the machine. He grimaces at my words. Obviously he disagrees, which unsurprisingly makes me want to drink more coffee to piss him off. I don't usually drink coffee so quick, especially when it's so hot, but I needed the energy this morning.

His hand grips my arm as I move away towards the coffee machine.

"You're not going to have another mug, are you?" His voice is high pitched and laced with worry as he frowns at me.

"Yeah, I am. Now would you kindly remove your hand from my body? I don't like being told what to do; I'll have as many cups of coffee as I like." I tug my arm free from his grip, which is surprisingly looser now. He's standing in the way of me and my coffee, in the morning, when I'm grumpy. I know I wouldn't usually have this kind of confidence but annoyance is high on my list of feelings right now.

I feel his gaze on my body as I make my way over the kitchen counter. It makes me uncomfortable and uneasy and then I realise I'm only wearing my shorts and tank top. I look around the room as inconspicuously as I can and spot one of my robes on the back of the chair. I have to bypass Edward to get to it; I spend several moments calculating the best decision before I make my way over towards him.

His eyes remain on my face the whole time, not looking at my body. I notice now that he has removed his Ray Bans and I stop as I catch myself staring into his eyes. The eyes that have no end and made me feel like I can see into his soul. I know I like what I see, which scares me more than him being bad ever could. I can handle him being bad; he's a vampire. It's an evolutionary design of him to be bad, but being good? It's wrong on levels that I can't contemplate.

I find myself walking forward again but this time in the direction of Edward, a bond between us pulling me closer to him. I stop when I am several steps away from him, and I have to tilt my head to look up at him because my head just reaches his shoulders.

I've always liked the feeling of a man being taller, it makes me feel more feminine and safe and protected; not that I need protecting, I can do that perfectly fine, myself.

He looks down at me, his features soft and understanding. A smile plays on his lips.

"You're in my way." I point towards the chair where my black silk robe is currently lying.

"So I am."

He smirks but he doesn't move. He doesn't even glance back to my robe. He steps closer to me, encroaching on my personal space. I don't move; I don't even flinch. I feel safe and comfortable. His hand moves to cup my chin, and he stokes my cheek with his thumb.

"What are you doing?" I groan as I feel the butterflies in my stomach intensify and the nerves that his thumb brushes against tingle.

"Stroking your face."

"I know that but I mean why?" I feel utterly frustrated and annoyed.

"You should have been more specific in the first place, Isabella. I'm stroking your cheek because I want to."

"Can you remove your hand?" I fold my arms across my chest and step back as much as I can with my chin still in Edward's grasp. He's being an ass.

"I can." He grins and cocks an eyebrow. "I thought you were smart, Isabella?"

"I am. Please remove your damn hand from my face now, Edward! Stop calling me Isabella. It's Bella!"

His grin slips slightly, but thankfully he removes his hand. He doesn't speak, just stares at me with that same intense, brooding glare that penetrates deep to my core.

I don't know how long I stand staring at Edward, just trapped in his gaze. I shift my weight uncomfortably after a while, no longer being able to stand the heat of his focus, which is entirely upon me.

"Edward." I whine a little like a child, but I don't care.

"You're beautiful," he says. He moves to cup my face again but I swat his hand away.

"That's a son by an Englishman." I remember hearing it when I went to London for a few days last year. It was rather good. He fights a smile.

"Can I get to my robe now please?" I point to my robe behind him and he nods.

"You don't have to cover up your body for me, I'm your m ..."

"Don't say the word!" I hold up my hand. His eyes look sad as I do this, but I don't want to hear it because that would be accepting it.

He steps aside without another word and allows me to grasp my robe which I quickly slip on and draw closed. I cover my body as best I can, trying to preserve the little modesty I have left.

"Bella, we need to talk." Edward's voice is cold and distant and as I turn to him, he's staring out of the window. His head not quite here and not with me, but far away. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his whole posture is rigid and defensive.

His back is facing me as he stares out of the window. He's like a statue: unmoving, cold and unresponsive.

I take several tentative steps forward — now forgetting about my next fix of caffeine —  
>towards Edward so I can touch his back from my current position.<p>

I reach out with my hand, so it hovers just above his upper back, just inches away from actually touching him, touching his defined, muscled back. Hesitantly I move my shaking hand forward, but stop before I reach his back and draw it back against my body, clutching it against myself.

I take a deep unsteady breath and go to reach out again to him, but this time he turns sharply and makes me gasp. I jump into the air as he spins with blinding speed. He rushes forward and grabs hold of my body, preventing me from toppling backwards into the table but I cringe at the contact.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to scare you." He looks genuinely concerned, and once again, hurt at the thought of me cringing from our contact.

"It's o-okay." I've never been a major stutterer but when I was younger I was extraordinary shy and I would do it when I was nervous or upset. It rarely comes out in front of people now, but I feel my cheeks heating up as I feel it coming on.

As I'm back upright and stable upon my feet, Edward, thankfully, releases his grip on my body and takes a few steps away, putting distance between us. I'm glad for the physical distance for the moment as I've always found it hard to be so close to people but I know it won't take long for me to crave being near him. He's like a drug.

I've never needed the close comfort of another. The only people I allow close to me are my two long time friends, Angela and Jacob, and then Riley, who's like a son to me. So to allow Edward to be so close to me, having barely known him a day, makes me extremely uncomfortable.

"We can talk in the living room." I finally manage to get out, realising he'd been talking about needing to talk to me.

"I just need to change." I waft my hands around in the air, feeling awkward and vulnerable and yet safe and protected all at the same time.

My emotions are swirling up around me, inside of me, making my thoughts swim in a thousand different directions and because of this I'm finding it incredibly hard to collect myself.

"Sure, I'll just wait on the couch." He strolls out before me, head down, hands shoved back in his pockets not uttering another word to me.

He doesn't look in my direction, doesn't smile, doesn't even acknowledge me and it makes me feel hurt, like he's just stabbed me in the chest with a ten inch dagger.

I stop a sob from escaping my body and trudge off to my bedroom in a zombie state. I bump into Angela on the way, and she looks uncomfortably excited. She's jumping up and down, flapping her arms and giggling quietly as she points back at the living room and makes actions to Edward. She starts swooning about and fanning herself as she giggles again.

"Angela, pull yourself together, it's just Edward Cullen." I sigh, feeling thoroughly annoyed by her enthusiasm.

"Bella!" She admonishes me. "He's not just Edward Cullen, he's _the _Edward Cullen, the big Hollywood star and heartthrob." Her eyes are alight with excitement.

"Like I said, Edward Cullen." It's all utterly ridiculous, he may look handsome but he's just a vampire, nothing special.

"Bella, he's a vampire and he's in our house and he's a movie star wanting to speak to you. It can only mean one thing, you know you've m ..." I shove my hand over her mouth and she instantly sobers.

"No I haven't, Angela. Don't say that." I growl at her, instantaneously feeling guilt and regret for the way I've acted.

"I'm sorry Ang, it's just not me. I don't want this." I drop my shoulders, feeling depressed.

She pats my shoulder sympathetically, knowing I don't want to feel suffocated in a hug at this moment.

"I understand, Bella. I'm sorry. I know you don't like all the hype surrounding Hollywood and stars but do you think he'll give me his autograph?" She wiggles her eyebrows as she fades of into her far away land.

"Sure Ang, go ask him." I push her towards the living room with a forced smile. I love Ang because she never dwells or digs into my head. She knows if I want something or need something, I can talk to her about it, and she always be understanding.

I stop just outside of my bedroom and listen out to Angela and Edward in the living room.

"Mr Cullen, I was wondering whether I could have your autograph? I don't mean to be a pain but I'm a huge fan and I couldn't miss the opportunity of a lifetime with having you in my apartment, since it may never happen again." I smile to myself at Angela, always the polite one.

"Of course you can, Angela, and call me Edward; no need for formalities."

I can imagine the grin on his face, even though there seems to be a bitter twinge in his voice. It seems odd to know that his voice sounds bitter when I met him merely yesterday but I know it's there and I know why it's there.

Ang's words roll around my head.. _It may never happen again._

I don't like the feeling of knowing him so well already or being able to recognise traits about him, especially when it involves me. I see he's a possessive man, but there is nothing I can do to change it.

Not wanting to hear any more of their conversation, I shove my door open and tumble into my room. I look around, realising it looks an absolute mess, and my laptop is lying open on the desk with the coffee cup from two days ago beside it.

It is the coffee cup I always drink from when I sit at my laptop and decide to type; it's called my inspiration mug, as it has lots of quotes from books and wise people printed around it. Angela had it specially made for me. Then Jacob had one printed with Sam on the front, that one makes me smile, but Angela's wins hands down every time. It was the first, and only year, in which they collaborated when buying me a birthday gift. At the time I'd laughed so hard to find two mugs. When I'd calmed down I made them promise to never gain shop together because I really didn't need two of everything.

Thinking of the mugs reminds me—I have been neglecting Sam since I got home yesterday. I sigh, knowing he'll have been up to all kinds of trouble by now.

I strip quickly, dragging on fresh underwear, jeans and a t-shirt. Quite an accomplishment considering the state of my room. It's nearing washing week so I'm down to my last few pairs of clean _anything_. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and drop down onto my knees to see if Sam has been hiding out in my room, but unfortunately due to the state of my room the attempt to find anything alive beneath the piles of blankets, clothes, books and other useless junk is absolutely hopeless.

I crawl over to the door with a sigh and pull it open. I get to my feet and yell out.

"Ang, did Sam sleep in your room last night? He's not in my bedroom!" I yelled only because I was nervous, unwilling to go back into the living room.

"No, B, you know he prefers your bed to mine." I frown. Maybe he is in my bed, but it's so hard to tell. I sure didn't notice last night when I went to sleep.

I look at my bed again and then I realise something is moving in amongst the covers.

"Sam, baby!" I call to him in hope I can get him out if he's in my room.

"Who's Sam?" Edward asks, and he doesn't sound happy. I smirk. He's getting jealous of a dog.

"Do you know if he left his toys in your room or mine Ang, because then I might be able to entice him out."

"Your room, Bella. You know he prefers you."

"Oh, I know. He's just my baby though." I really love my dog, but he's so full on and hyper active all the time.

I hear Edward growling and then angry footsteps as he moves closer to my room.

"Edward!"Ang calls after him.

I can't help but break down into a fit off giggles on the floor as he storms into the door, looking demented. I don't know what he possibly thought was going off, but he seems really annoyed. Just then, the bed cover that was moving stops as the big black, shaggy dog that I call my own comes bounding out at me barking, tongue lolling as he rushes over to me.

"Sam!" I open up my arms as he jumps onto me and licks my face.

"Sam, baby." I coo, ruffle his fur and snuggle in close, still fighting the giggles that have overcome me.

"Sam's a dog?" Edward asks. I look at him from the position of being flat on my back with Sam squashing me.

"What did you think he was?" I quirk an eyebrow and giggle again as I see Ang standing behind him, looking.

Edward folds his arms, grumbles and leaves the room. I continue to giggle on the floor, happy that I've annoyed Edward.

"B, that was mean." Ang crouched down beside me. Her voice was scolding but I see the smile playing on her lips.

"What? I didn't do anything." I defend myself as I pull Sam onto my lap so I can sit up.

"Toys? Your room or mine?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Oh, I didn't think about it being taken quite like that." I laugh again while feeling myself blush at my own innocence.

The whole situation does reinforce the fact that male vampires are possessive and dominant about their m— about their—.

I can't even think the word, never mind say or hear it.

"Come on, Sammy boy." I ruffle his head again and shove him off my lap with quite a bit of effort.  
>"He's really getting big now. Aas he been fed?" I feel guilty knowing I'm a bad mother to neglect my baby.<p>

"He's huge. I put some fresh food and water down this morning," Ang says as we make our way into the living room.

I feel a little queasy again at the thought of actually sitting down to talk to Edward. All joking aside, it's a serious matter that we're about to talk about. It's my life and future that rests in his hands, because if he decided to pick me up and take me away nobody could stop him. I certainly couldn't, and the police wouldn't.

Once a vampire male mates, all rights of his mate are revoked in favour of the vampire's will, so as long as there is sufficient evidence to prove a mating, the police do not interfere between mate and vampire.

It's a rather unfortunate situation, but then again, I've never heard of a female rejecting a mate or a mating. Usually they turn into giggling girls that ask how high when their mate tells them to jump.

I jump for no one.

I take a deep breath just before I enter into the living room, and Ang reaches out and squeezes my arm.

"I'm going to take Sam out for a walk." She gives me a sympathetic smile and I nod. I want to cling to her and tell her not to go, not to leave me alone with him, but I don't. I know I have to face this on my own, whether I like it or not; I can't rely on Angela for the rest of my life.

"Okay, Ang, don't be gone too long." I compromise with myself, knowing I won't survive for long without somebody other than Edward in the house and I don't really fancy having Jacob appear.

I really don't think it would go down well with him, after he jumps to the wildest conclusion about Sam. Although some may say that's my fault for making the comments about toys and being tired at night, but being exhausted is the truth even if it isn't down to Sam. Another point is, Edward just seems to have a very, dirty mind.

The thought makes me chuckle and cringe all at the same time, yet it doesn't ease my internal battle in the slightest.

As I enter the living room, I see him seated in the centre of the couch, his hands hanging between legs that are evenly spaced out over feet rest against the edge of the chocolate rug in the centre of the room.

His head is down and his glasses are lying on the coffee table. He doesn't look up as I enter and I thank him mentally for that, because I don't want to quite look him in the face at this moment; even if I know it's coming within moments.

Some people say doing something you hate first always makes things easier, but I find it hard to just buck up the courage or find the motivation to do that, so I need to wait and build the confidence inside myself.

I'm not a person who goes around showing off and declaring how beautiful and wonderful I am to the world, because I'm none of those things; I'm just a normal average girl who has been placed in a rather shitty situation.

I know people argue that, cursing can give one the impression of lowered intelligence, but in this moment there is no other way to summarise a situation where a girl such as me, so opposed to vampires and mating, who wants to a live a quiet, peaceful life, complete her degree and live with her best friend can end up mating with a vampire who's a Hollywood star.

And Hollywood stars do certainly _not_lead, quiet, peaceful lives. I've seen the paparazzi that follow them round and stalk them, every detail of your life posted across paper headlines and glossy magazines. Especially when you're a Hollywood heartthrob.

Edward is indeed Hollywood's "it-guy" and has been for the past few years, or so the internet says. After all, I am not about to find myself connected to a random stranger without first doing some kind of research on him. Not that I plan to stay connected to him for much longer if I can help it.

The internet is a wonderful thing and we're extremely lucky that it doesn't decide to pack up and close for the evening, as last night before I slept, I spent numerous hours surfing the web looking at one particular topic.

I did initially intend to continue with my writing, as I'm writing a story, it's a science-fiction novel about Aliens and the human race don't exist. The humans eventually enter space and become classed as Aliens themselves. It's complicated and bizarre, but it's something I feel familiar and safe with, so when I'd pulled up the tenth chapter, I found myself drawn to the internet. It may sound corny, but I actually wanted to research something about NASA and their current space exploration projects, but rather than typing NASA into Google, my favourite search engine, I got distracted. They happened to have a very entertaining version of Pac-Man integrated into the Google logo for people to play. Confronted with a perfectly useful Google search box, I typed in Edward's name.

I was astounded with the results which cropped up. Over 900, 000, 000 results appeared.

It left me feeling rather stunned to believe that I, an absolute nobody, could be connected to one of the most well known actors on the planet, who also happened to be a 110 year old vampire. That was an extremely creepy fact on it's own; he was older than my dad and grandparents.

The thought made me a little sick to be truthful. He only looks young; if one wanted to pinpoint an age, one might say seventeen. He was changed in 1918, after a bout with Spanish Influenza.

Wikipedia is another great source for information. I sigh thinking how much of a stalker this makes me seem but really, Wikipedia is there for a reason and I am not about to let myself walk into any situation blind. Research has always been my strong point and it happens to be something I truly adore doing, so I was pleased to find I had stumbled upon a great little project.

I'm not about to tell anybody this, but he has his own file on my laptop now, dedicated to the information I have found out about him, which is ever growing. As Wikipedia, after all, can only tell you so much, and I need to cross reference my facts to make sure I have them sure.

I mean, I know I could probably ask him, but I don't fancy getting into the whole life history chat.

Given how old he is, it may take a while, and usually when people have those type of conversations they expect something in return— tit for tat, and I'm certainly not the sharing type.

I know I have an extremely unfair advantage, with Edward being present over the whole of cyber-space, but that's not really my problem. He's the movie star, so he should expect people to want to know as much about him as possible, which means skeletons and all, including, I'm guessing, being a vampire.

I find it rather entertaining though, the fact that I can find out a lot of information about Edward just using the internet, and he can't find anything out about me. I even typed my name into Google just to be sure. Thankfully no results came up that were actually linked to me.

The only person he could possibly sneak information out of is Angela, and she hasn't been around him nearly long enough— I intend to keep it that way. He does not need to know anything about me, as there is nothing happening between us. I nod my head firmly to myself, knowing we're just random strangers in a freak situation that can easily be solved.

"So shoot." I drop down onto the opposite couch, as far away from Edward as I can. I do, at least, have the decency to look at him. My parents have always instilled manners and respect in me, even if they did it in a rather disjointed, roundabout method, but now is not the time for my life history. My stomach clenches at the thought of my parents but I push away the guilt and pain that lies there.

"Isabella ..." He goes to speak but I hold up my hand. The "Isabella" crap is really starting to annoy me and my nerves are wearing thin, very thin, indeed.

"How many times have I warned you about calling me Isabella?" I growl.

"Twice; this would be the third time, Isabella." He grins, unrepentant, and I feel my jaw slacken a little. I didn't expect an exact answer but I guess with him being a vampire, he recalls things easily, though it's such a trivial thing...

"And you're about to make it four times." I fold my arms and pull myself further up on the couch.

He sighs. "Bella, we need to talk and I can't do it with you sulking like a four year old. You do look adorable at this moment, but we need to have a proper, adult conversation with good communication." His intense stare is burning a hole on my skin.

He called me adorable. The though alone makes me smile a little, against my will, none the less.

_Since when have I, Bella Swan, been adorable?_

"You've always been adorable, Bella." He gives me a cheeky smile.

"Did I say that aloud?" I ask, not realising if I had or not, because if I did, then that's something I really need to work on.

"Yeah." He looks shifty and uncomfortable though.

I nod my head, not in the slightest convinced.

"So, what's happening between us?" I motion with my hands back and forth and I feel my forehead crease.

"What do you want to happen, Bella? You won't even let me say you're my ..." he pauses and looks at me again.

"Say it." I hear my voice crack, but I lean forward slightly.

"You're my mate."

I feel the blind panic wash through me and he's knelt before me in the blink of an eye.

"Bella, breathe for me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Big, deep breathes. Breathe, Bella." He shakes my shoulders lightly and I take in a deep breath through my nose as I exhale slowly after. Not realising I'd be holding my breath, the air through my lungs is a relief that makes my whole body shudder.

"Good girl." He praises me like a child when they say their first word or when a toddler first walks.

"I don't want it, Edward, any of it. I like my life, and your tipping it upside down." He frowns but doesn't move. His hold on me tightens a little and I feel the blood in my arms drain a little.

"Edward, you're hurting me." I cringe, but his grip loosens and I feel the blood rushing back into my arms.

"I'm sorry, Bella. You don't want me or the mating?" He looks utterly heartbroken.

"Neither, Edward. I'm happy with my life. It might be boring, mundane and quiet but I'm perfectly content with that." I look at him, hoping he can understand where I'm coming from.

He just looks at me, not saying anything. I try to turn away but his hand captures my face and forces me to look into his eyes. He looks so lost and empty, I've never seen a stare quite like it.

He looks like his whole worlds been taken away in a moment and replaced by utter darkness and pain. I let out a little sob as I see the pain in his eyes, but there's nothing I can do. I can't be with him. It's just not me.

"Edward." I croak out but he pulls away. His whole body withdraws from me and he moves to stand at the other side of the room.

His back is to me again, hunched and defensive. I feel as though my favourite toy has just been whipped away from me cruelly. Is it odd to feel empty and lonely when he doesn't even mean anything to me?

Is this normal?

"Don't Bella, don't speak." He growls and I see his fists clench at the side of him and I flinch. He couldn't hurt me could he?

I sit deadly still on the couch, unmoving, barely even breathing.

He presses his hand against the window pane, and his body seems to relax.

"I will never, ever hurt you Bella. I promise on my life, even if that means nothing to you. I can stay away if that makes you happy." He doesn't turn to me, just continues to look out of the window.

"It would." I reply without thought.

"I can do that for you. Just promise me two things: I can have your phone number and you'll wear this at all times." He turns holding a bracelet.

It's silver, shiny and looks expensive. It's covered in diamonds and has a strange pattern embedded into the bracelet band.

"Edward." I frown, knowing I can't accept something that looks so lavish from him, especially when I feel like I'm being so mean. Also, it would stand our for miles around. It's like a honing device for people to spot from outer space.

"Please, Bella, that's all I ask from you." He bows his head as he twists the bracelet round and round in his hand.

"Why?" I need to know a reason to walk around wearing such a outrageous piece of jewellery on my wrist.

"Do I need a reason?" He moves closer, holding up the bracelet.

"Fine." I don't push the fact, knowing that I'm asking him to leave me alone. I can see I'm crushing him and damn if I don't feel guilty about it. I guess this could be a reasonable request from him, especially since vampires only ever mate once. After all, I researched vampire mating last night as well.

It said in the history of all vampire matings, with humans and vampires alike, a male vampire will never, ever leave his mate alone once he has mated due to the urge he has to constantly protect her and the bond they forge between each other that makes them inseparable.

Luckily this bond is only created by sex and Edward and I certainly haven't had that. It says the bond is created when the male marks the female as his own; this finalises the mating.

There are two more stages after the initial bond is established in order to complete a change into a vampire. Just the thought alone makes me shudder.

The vampire mating is sacred and the vampire male always promises to protect his mate before himself. Placing his mate's needs before his own and making sure she is always well provided for.

I remembered reading something about the need to mate, and the desire to finalize the mating which becomes stronger over time when you go without mating. Eventually an incomplete-mated pair will be drawn together, unable to refuse their growing passion for each other.

I fell off my chair when I'd read that, but I knew Edward and myself; we're different and it won't happen to us.

I feel it.

So as long as we don't mate it means that we will be able to be apart, though it also said being apart from your mate for prolonged periods of time can be extremely uncomfortable. I cringe again at the thought of needing somebody so much.

I look to Edward and hold out my arm, knowing that if he is going to let me be free, I can give him this one thing by wearing his bracelet.

"Bella, promise me that you'll never try to take it off." He looks me dead in the eye as he fastens the bracelet onto my wrist.

It feels like an iron grip wrapping around my arm and yet it makes me feel safe and secure with the warm feeling it sends through my body. It's as though the bracelet itself is humming with life as it snaps into place. Edward securely locks the bracelet.

"Yeah, sure," I mumble. I look down at the bangle which is glowing so brightly that it hurts my eyes but the magic it creates means I find it hard to remove my eyes from it.

"Bella, promise me." He groans in frustration.

"I promise." I whine a little like a child but look into his eyes, after finally managing to tear myself away from the beauty of the bracelet so I can truthfully show him that I mean my promise.

"Thank you, Edward, it's beautiful." I turned my gaze back to my arm.

"You're welcome, Bella, but it's nothing compared to you." I feel my cheeks heating up at his comment. I've never been complimented so much before. That's not to say I haven't received comments, because I have, it's just that boys have never really been interested in me. I've always been boring, "swotty" Bella. Not that I care, I have my fair share of experience with boys but I don't really want to get into all the gory details. They truly make me shudder.

Edward's hand cups my chin and he brings me up to look at him. He gently bends down towards me and I feel my heartbeat start to rise, beating faster, thudding against my chest— hard. Then his lips brush against my forehead, soft and cool. I feel a shiver run through my body as he pulls away, a small sad smile on my face.

He steps away and I hear the door close. Angela's back—with Sam.

He bounds through the door and runs straight into my arms as I crouch down to his level, tearing my eyes from Edward.

"Hello, boy, have a good walk?" He licks my face. I laugh and nuzzle my face into his fur.

I see Edward talking to Angela quietly, and she nods, handing him something. I frown but don't make a comment. It's not my place to say or ask what he's doing. After all, I don't control his life and I never will, nor will I be part of it; the thought makes me sad, which is strange, as it's what I want.

"I better be going, Bella. It was nice meeting you. Enjoy your life. It was nice to meet you too, Angela. And Bella, don't _ever _take that bracelet off. You'll know how to contact me if you ever need me." He gives me a final, sad smile and heads for the door.

"I won't, Edward. I promise. How would I contact you?" I call out. I don't truly understand what he means. How would I know? I hear the door shut and I know it's too late. I'm not sure even why I asked to know how to find him but something inside of me needed to know. I couldn't let the question go unanswered, but now it's too late.

I turn to Angela slowly, who stands in the doorway. She looks at me, her face pale and her eyes filled with questions and horror.

I move like a zombie from the floor, feeling like I've just had my heart ripped out. I look out at the window, he's nowhere in sight. I totally ignore Angela in the moment as I search the view before me for any sign of the man I just kicked out of my life. I feel uncontrollably guilty and sick to the stomach. I've crushed him brutally. The look on his face matched that of kicking a lost puppy.

A complete and utter stranger, who seems to have changed me in a way nobody could ever think about.

I turn to Angela.

"We won't be seeing Edward again. I told him I didn't want him." I feel my heart clench a little as the words leave my mind.

"What? Why? Bella, he's your mate. You can't deny a vampire his mate!" she screeches.

"He's gone Ang, I don't want him and I don't need him and we aren't mates. We can't be, otherwise he would never have gone." I grab hold of Sam's lead and march of to my bedroom with him following close at my heels.

"Bella, you can't deny it forever. I'm not saying talk to me, but just think about it rationally. Don't run away from everything; for once in your life, don't close up from the world."

I block her out.

She's trying to help but she's interfering by telling me things I _don't_want to hear.

I drop Sam's lead, knowing it's wrong to make him follow. He trots into my room mindlessly. I close the door and lean back against it, looking around.

I take in the shelves and shelves of books I own, the little trinkets I've had since I was a child. I take in scattered note pads and pens, all of my junk across the floor. It's everything that makes me who I am, but everything that I've done has been alone. As I look around the room, I don't see pictures of friends or family, only my own achievements. My evidence to the world about how I close myself away. Shut everything out. I want to scream and throw things about, but I know it won't help.

Compared to Angela's room, mine is a different world. She has a TV, a collection of DVDs, games and cards, photos; things that adds up to a world of fun and friendship. Things people do together. My eyes finally rest upon my laptop. Edward's picture still displayed from the night before, his Wikipedia photo up on the screen.

Calling out to me.

I wonder why it hasn't shut off by now, why it's still staring at me. His hair looks beautifully messy and his golden eyes piercing but something is wrong about the picture. As perfect as he looks, he doesn't seem complete.

I can't put my finger on what's wrong, but something is missing. A constant in his life, somebody to care for him, to treat him well; he's all alone in the world and the person programmed to want and need him. Just turned him away.

And then it clicks— he's lonely.

Something I feel deep inside of myself.

Loneliness.

In that moment I feel inconsolably racked with guilt, pain, heartache and sorrow. I drop to my knees as I let my emotions consume me, feeling utterly lost. I allow the tears to pool and bring to mind, my solitary image of Edward.

I clutch at my covers whilst my body is overcome with the shaking of my sobs.

_What have I done?_

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Twilight nor any of it's characters.

Thanks to **busybee37 **for all the support she's given me!

Thank you to my new beta who's fabulous and really beats the shit out of my work, **Her Mighty Ubergeekness.**

You can find me on Twitter at **NerdetteLove **and I have the link on my profile along with the link to the** Fatum Lamarium Banner.**

This chapter was **reposted on 13th October.**

**Thanks** for reading!

And, don't feel shy about **leaving me a review**.


	4. My Mate

**Title update: Fatum Lamarium into Fatum Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**  
>Love How It Hurts by Scouting For Girls<br>Everybody Hurts by Avril Lavigne  
>Thanks for the Memories by Fall Out Boy<p>

**~Chapter Three~**

.My Mate.

_**EPOV**_

I prowl into the nearest building to escape the onslaught and attack of the paparazzi. They are like vultures; they prey on you at your weakest point. The moment one least suspects them to appear — _wham_— they're there. I really hate them! I just want to be able to walk down the street and feel free. After the day from hell, the paparazzi have just pushed my final button. First I had to deal with Tanya Denali, who was yet again coming onto me and then some idiot messed up the sound system, meaning we had to redo the whole scene again.

One may wonder how I haven't gained more patience over my life, and I have to a certain degree, but one can't be perfect every moment of every day; not even an immortal.

After the past sixty or seventy years of being nothing but alone, everything is starting to wear on me. It makes me question whether I'm actually worthy of somebody, if I'll ever find somebody to share my life with.

I'm fed up with everything. I've been an actor for over forty years, before that I was a musician, I've been to high school several times, university, travelled around and learnt numerous languages. What else can somebody with an endless amount of time do? Some people would say I should get a girl or "get laid" as Emmett likes to so crudely put it, but I don't want a lay nor do I want just any girl. I'm waiting for my mate and I want to go to her pure. Not with hundreds of girls at the back of my mind.

There isn't much that doesn't seem bleak or tiring and for a vampire that never tires, this seems rather exceptional. If it weren't for my family, I'd be curled up in a dark, damp cave, only coming out to feed.

My feet keep moving and I realise that I'm in the library, with it's rustic smells and quiet surroundings, I almost feel at home; I am peaceful, for once in my life. I shouldn't get hassled here, or if I do, lets hope the staff can do their job and chuck them out. After all, libraries are known to be the place of quiet contemplation and wonderful discoveries.

I have my own personal library, which I like to spend a great deal of time in, relaxing and reading. Being an immortal who doesn't sleep gives me unlimited time to enjoy the pleasure of books and learning new things. Although, I can't say I've ever felt quite like this before, because my whole body seems to be humming.

I stalk through the tables of the library, moving further past the bookshelves to a deeper, darker section of the library, hoping that somewhere, I can find my own private space that _nobody _can invade upon, even if it's just for a few short hours.

That's when I notice somebody is following me — my anger flares. Why can I never be left alone? I slip to the side of a bookshelf and hide myself in the shadows, waiting for the small frame that looms to move forward and finally reach me.

For a moment, I allow myself to be captured by the femininity of the figure; the long flowing hair and curvaceous figure gives me no doubt it's a woman. She makes her way towards me with the very edge of a predators stalk, ready to pounce. The last part breaks me from my reality and I reach out with my hand, stopping her from venturing onwards, and she jumps in surprise — maybe a touch of fright. I can smell the fear emanating from her every pore.

My grip on her shoulder only tightens — I don't want her running away like a frightened rabbit. I lean forward to speak into her ear.

"Why were you following me?" My voice sounds husky to my own ears, which I don't like. This waif of a girl seems to be shaking me up from under my skin. Shaking? She exhales loudly, and it captures my attention. Did she stop breathing?

When she finally speaks it comes out more like a squeak and her voice is like a bell — music to my ears.

I growl to bring myself back to sanity. I'm allowing this temptress to get the better of me. "I'm not stupid, so answer my question."

She squeaks again and I tighten my hand further on her shoulder and I feel the soft tissue give under the pressure of my hand. I find my eyes drifting to the length of her neck and the smooth curve. I watch the pulse and ebb of her blood beneath that oh-so-thin skin.

"Can you please remove your hood, Sir." She sounds calmer and more confident this time, which leaves me utterly dumbfounded, but thankfully shakes me from my haze of momentary blood-lust.

No stalker, no mobbing. She asked me to remove my hood — doing her job — and that thought shocks me. Nobody has ever just done their job with me.

I let out a little "oh" and her body sags against me a little when I release the death grip I have upon her shoulder. She spins quickly away from me and puts as much distance as possible in this confined space, between us. Have I scared her?

Staring at her face, I realise she's an innocent beauty. She's merely a young girl with big, chocolate-brown, doe eyes and a trusting face, and I've abused her. I frown. I've hurt her. Regret and horror washes through me at the thought — how can I not have recognised my own strength?

My gaze is locked with this girl whom has me completely entranced.

How could one girl be so alluring? I've never in my lifetime seen anybody like her, not anybody who could even hold a candle to her light.

Could this girl be the one?

Before my mind can start to go into an in-depth analysis, I remember to find my voice and speak to the poor girl.

"Sure. I'm sorry. I didn't realise. Did I hurt you?" I ask. I need to know how badly I've hurt her because there is no doubt in my mind that she's hurt.

"No, I'm fine." That wondrous voice rises again.

I find myself ensnared with those big, pump peachy lips; they look incredibly inviting. I find myself getting aroused at the thought of them; desire, something I haven't felt in a very long time.

My voice is rough as I grasp for a response and while I try to rid myself of images that are less from innocent about those lips, wrapped around a very hard part of my anatomy.

"Good." I slide off my hood.

I tilt my head to the side and send out a mental probe, only then realising, I'm not picking up any mental frequency from the girl. I get nothing. It's like her mind doesn't exist. I try again to find myself with the same result and every growing in my frustration.

My eyes travel back to her face, where he cheeks have turned the most delicious pink — how I wish I could read her mind now, if only to know why she's blushing. I wonder how far that blush goes down?

Her eyes are fixated with my hair and I have to fight a smirk; girls always seem to love my hair. I fight back a gasp as I hear her voice sounding out in my head. It's just an errant thought but I immediately know it's her, the flavour of the mind trail, the magical voice. I'm struck with momentary confusion, she's a blank wall and yet, that one thought hit me.

Two words.

Hot sex.

They throw me out of sync and make me want to press her back into the bookcase and ravage her body — every curvaceous inch. I manage to pull myself back from the brink of taking her when I see her little, innocent face and nervous expression.

But why would she be thinking that? What made her think it? I certainly want to find out and I'm not going to settle without an answer.

Her eyes are still lingering on my hair, obviously having developed her own little fascination. Her eyes have darkened slightly and her breathing rate has increased as her cheeks hollow out and she flushes a deeper red. The blood pouring into her face makes my resistance even harder. Her hair is partially concealing her face and that creamy, pale skin that I want to sink my fangs into. She's utter perfection with her dainty nose, that pouty lips and big, innocent eyes.

She finally pulls her eyes away from my hair and starts to fidget with her hands. Is she nervous?

My thoughts fade away into nothing as we once again get caught in our yearning trance. Her aura screams pureness, although I can see something has tainted it with the dark splodge that hovers around her inner core. She's locking it away and it makes me want to unlock it, drag it open and bare itself for me to see — just like her.

Her eyes are so incredibly expressive, telling me everything I ever need to know in one look alone, the heart to unravelling her soul and heart. I know she's truly mine in that moment and she will never be with anybody else. The dominant part of me that has lain dormant for so long, first beaten back after my newborn, years is rising to the surface, newly reawakened.

I see and hear the books clatter to the floor as they fall free from her hands but I'm so lost in her that I can't bring myself to catch them, to hold them for her. It might also be the little part of my arrogant male ego preening that I can have such an effect upon her. To dazzle.

The energy around us is full of goodness, light and passion. In that moment, I have no doubts that she is my mate, my one true love. This is the girl I've been waiting for since the moment of my re-birth as a vampire. The second half to my incomplete whole.

The person I felt disturbing our peace earlier, finally intrudes on our moment. It's a man. I have to hold myself back from snarling and growling at him to stay away. I lock down my muscles to control myself.

Although the man — or should I say vampire, even if he is a pitiful excuse of a vampire —couldn't ever compare to me in efforts for this beauty's affections.

I find out her name from him, somebody so unworthy of speaking her name.

Isabella.

So befitting for such an alluring sight.

She tears her eyes away from me and whirls around, where she teeters on the tips of her toes. I feel sad that I can look into her chocolate orbs no more, so instead I glare at the vampire before me who is looking furiously at Isabella.

I tap into his head with ease and hear him thinking about biting her so that she can be _kept in order. _How very dare he even think about harming even a hair on her body. The only person that will ever be allowed to sink their fangs into her skin is me, and that will be during the throes of passion where I will claim her as mine. No other male will lay a hand upon her, comfort her nor will he pleasure her. It will only ever be me.

I listen to their exchange in a cold fury as he growls, shouts and reprimands her for dropping the books, which I can see makes her feel incredibly remorseful. I feel stupid for enjoying the moment of male arrogance that resulted in me not catching them, and putting Isabella, in harms way.

Something I can never, _ever_allow to happen again.

She bends down to pick up the books and I reach down to aid her. My own hand brushes against her smaller, daintier hands when I stretch out for a book.

She looks up at me in surprise.

"Allow me."

She looks afraid, which makes me want to go and tear this _vampire _limb, from torturous limb for how he's making her feel.

"Thank you for the offer, but please let me, it's my fault and my job." She pleads to me with her eyes and I succumb to her will —entirely helpless.

I give a sharp nod and raise myself to my full height. I position myself before Isabella, just to make it clear that I am her protector to that before us. He will make no mistake that she is mine and mine alone to care for and protect because if he does, he will rue the day he ever became an immortal.

Once she's gathered the books into her arms, she scuttles of like a scared little lamb to the front of the library. I watch every shaking step she takes while keeping a firm mental grip upon this smudge of a vampire. I don't stop the growl once Isabella is out of earshot. I drag my glasses down my nose and fix him with a brutal glare.

His eyes widen in terror and I feel the smugness settle in while I watch his mouth open and close like a fish. I stalk forward and feel my ego boost as he rushes backwards, almost tripping over his own feet. I move so fast that he lets out a sharp cry when I pin him against the bookcase, which shakes. Several books tumble down around us.

"You never, ever talk to Isabella like that again! Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

He nods his head.

"Answer me, you useless, measly little vampire!" I smack my hand against the bookcase hard.

"Yes-s-s."

"Good. Oh, and ever think about sticking your little fangs in her neck again and I'll do the same to you, over and over again, in much less desirable places."

I allow my fangs to extend and bring them close to his skin and gesture with a biting motion. He gulps and starts nodding his head. _What a good little dog. _

I don't move from my cage position around him because I want to see him sweat it out — intimidate him a little bit more.

"I am Isabella's mate so I will find out if you ever lay a finger on her, make a cruel comment or say anything that you're not meant to. I can get into your head, see the deepest, darkest fears of your subconsciousness, and make them come alive. So now you're going to trot of back to the desk and be nice to Isabella. She's going to come back and spend time with me and you won't say a thing or deduct her pay."

He's quivering from head to toe.

"What. Are. You. Waiting. For?" I punctuate each word with a punch next to his head.

"N-n-n-nothing." Then he's off, blurring from beneath me to find Isabella.

I chuckle darkly. "Don't forget to pick up your mess, Mister James."

I hold onto his mind the whole way and listen to the anger and humiliation that's bubbling up inside of him. Stupid vampire. He should have learnt by now that if he doesn't have a high social standing, he never will.

I chuckle again and swiftly move away from the desecrated area of books and shelves.

I hum gently under my breath. "Remember my promise, James, because if you don't, you shall rue the day you ever messed with Edward Cullen."

I don't think I've ever gained so much fun from tormenting somebody.

I drag a hand through my hair. I'm impatient for Bella's return, to see her all in one piece. I scent rather than see her first, that mouthwatering strawberry scent that wraps around her. I try to take as much in as I can in an attempt to sooth my inner beast. My ears tune to the fluttering of her beating heart and short little pants of her breath. None of this helps with my current state of arousal even after beating down the beast; I want to take her, claim her.

My mother would not be proud if I were to be so ungentlemanly. I promise myself that is what I will be to Isabella: the perfect gentlemen.

However, it doesn't stop me from enjoying her delicious scent nor mentally undressing her, as those are my private privileges. I can push down my desire but it cannot be tamed nor controlled.

She enters my line of vision and I rush to her side as she cries out while tumbling through the air. I catch her easily and wrap her up in my arms, where I hold her against my body. I'm careful to stop my lower regions connecting with hers because she really doesn't need to know about that yet. I attempt a reassuring smile while she tries to regain her breath.

"Thank you."

I help her fully onto her feet and feel entirely too attached to her in my arms to actually let go. With a gentle sorrowfulness I release my grip upon her.

"You're welcome." My voice deep and seductive because once again the deeper part of me shoves aside the rational and my pleasure practices rise due to my need to seduce and take my mate, damned the consequences.

My eyes transfixed upon hers until she ducks and squeaks. "James said you need my help?"

I nod and watch with apt fascination the pink colouring of her cheeks when she blushes. To pull my thoughts from less than innocent places I begin to talk as I wander by the bookcases, thinking about how I could take her here and now if I so wished.

I mentally chastise myself and ask about her favourite book because I can say I am intrigued to know the workings of her mind, not only because I can't read her, but because she's my mate. I want to know her favourite colour, word, food, smell, sound, film, and author. I want to know everything and anything from the smallest to the biggest detail. What side of the bed does she like to sleep on? How does she sleep? Does she cook? Is she healthy?

I can catalogue the information and store it away for future use because I have no doubt she will try to gain an advantage upon me. It's the nature of women to be sneaky.  
>I certainly won't allow a woman — mate or not — to walk all over me. I am in control.<p>

She turns towards the books. "How do you know I have good taste?"

My lips quirk into a smile and giving into a small amount of my temptations I place my hand against the small amount of creamy skin that has been revealed on her lower back.

I lean forwards and whisper in her ear. "I can just tell."

I preen with satisfaction when she shivers.

She gasps. "What type of book are you looking for?"

I take pity upon her and remove my hand while I listen to her heart beat slow as it no longer attempts to jump out of her ribcage. At least I know she reacts to me positively, just how mates are meant to.

We banter back and forth and I take in her likes of science-fiction, classic romance and horror, finding her all the more endearing. She's a unique girl and totally unlike the other nameless women who throw themselves at my feet. There is more beneath the surface, and it pleases me to know I'll have an intellectual like myself to talk to and share my knowledge with. I can teach her all about the world and open her eyes to so many wonderful things. How can it not be perfect?

She grows more agitated after her outburst of being nerdy and I feel compelled to ease that. When she starts to call me sir, it's the final straw.

"None of that 'sir' nonsense. Bella, I believe you will succeed, if the books you've just categorised are anything to go by. Now, if I tell you my name, promise not to squeal on me."

I realise she's my mate and we'll be spending an awful lot of time together but I can't be doing with somebody who is star struck by my fame. I spend most of my time running away from screaming girls, so I don't want to be coming home to another. She can get used to it, I don't doubt that, but I can't deny that it would be nice for her to be different. To be honest, it's surprised me that she hasn't recognised already. How odd.

"I don't squeal."

I chuckle at her indignant tone.

"I think you do, Miss?"

"Swan, Miss Swan. And you are yet to tell me your name. Stop stalling." She giggles and she draws us deeper into the library. I slowly follow her and let out a gentle sigh after I reveal my name.

She spins around and leans back against a bookcase. The seeming image of pure seduction as she raises one perfectly arched brow.

She lets out a raucous laugh after she tells me she's no screaming girl and that I'm not quite the star I thought I was. I merely stare on in bemusement.

"So you've never heard of me?" I ask and she turns around to the bookcase and reaches for a copy of Wuthering Heights. I've already read the book and it wasn't really to my taste. I can't say it was a bad book, but it's not the type of book I would put into my top 100. The love between Katy and Heathcliffe became so twisted, it's hard to actually understand what the appeal between them actually was.

I shoot her a crooked grin while we keep talking and I listen to the leap of her heartbeat, which I must say makes me feel smug. When we finally reach the point where I know she understands who I am and she's not a screaming girl, I find myself actually relaxing. It's a surprisingly refreshing change and I guess I got my wish about finding somebody who doesn't know who I am.

I laugh out loud when we broach the subject of fashion; her naivety is incredible cute, especially when he brow furrows and her cheeks heat up with a blush that is soon becoming her trademark remark. I'm finding myself being drawn further and further into the mystery that surrounds Isabella Swan.

My eyes cover the delicious curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts and the feminine curves of her swaying hips.

Our conversation is kept up easily while I keep my eyes trained on her every quirk and movement. I see how her hands ring together and twist and her eyes linger on my mouth which I gently allow to crack open and reveal fangs that unsheathe slightly as I think about her soft flesh beneath my hands, writhing and wriggling. The lust within me rises when I listen to her voice and the call of her blood and the only thing that can break me from my hazy state is the sight of her beginning to crumple to the ground after she utters:

"You have fangs."

I sweep her into my arms and gently lower her to the floor.

"Isabella!"

I hover over her and call out her name again, trying to coax her into opening her eyes. After several agonizing seconds, she finally makes a sound.

"What?"

I crack and smile and whip off my glasses. I try to bring her around with my mere willpower, but it seems to fail. My joy continues as she talks. Even though I could always hear her beating heart, it still frightened me to see her like that.

"Why have you disappeared?"

Her hands reaches up to touch my face and I lean into the touch — utterly helpless. Her hand is so soft and silky smooth as she caresses my face. She spans out her fingers and her thumb brushes across my lips before pushing its way into my mouth. When she brushes across my fangs I feel them elongate in the sexual excitement of the moment and the urge to bite on her thumb, which is quickly ripped from my mouth as Bella gasps. Her heartbeat begins to flutter madly and I panic that she's going to give herself a heart attack.

She obviously has an aversion to my fangs, which may make issues between us uneasy, but she can't react badly forever; after all, I'm her mate.

"I haven't, Isabella. You passed out. Now, can you open your eyes for me?"

Her hands come up to bat at me, or at least I think it's me, yet she never quite gets there.

"No, I don't want to."

I take hold of her arms to keep her from hurting herself and she finally manages to open her eyes and she looks into my own. That's when I realise: my glasses are on the ground. I completely forget about them, as I became dazzled when our gazes connected. Nothing can stop our connection now and we get lost in one and other. I quickly reach for my glasses to put them back on and block out the deep soul-wrenching connection for the moment so we can concentrate.

"Are you feeling okay?" I caress her cheek and revel when she blushes for me. She obviously enjoys my touch — oh the things I could do to her.

I pull away and help her to her feet before something that she'll really regret happens, considering she's been shifting around and brushing up against me intimately. I pull her with a little more force than necessary and she stumbles against my chest, giving me more time to hold her — selfish I know, but I really couldn't resist. I hold her with a firm grasp until she steps away with a little shudder.

"You'll certainly keep me on my toes."

She looks at me rather quizzically — maybe she heard that?

I watch her step away from me and that's when I recognise the fear in her eyes.

"Edward, are you a v-v-vampire?"

"Yes, Isabella, and you are my mate."

I seem to drop into a more formal tone when I land the bombshell, but it's not like it should upset her, after all, mating with a vampire is a privilege and a great honour. Even though I don't drink human blood, I'm incredibly important within the vampire world due to my gift. I can read the minds of those around me without physical contact. However, being one of the gifted means the Volturi likes to keep a watchful eye upon me and the other gifted few, and they will certainly be interested to find out I have a mate.

Mating for the those vampires in of higher social standing means we get lots of attention. Being in Hollywood just adds to that attention. It means that when we mate, we are usually mated to somebody strong, and might I add, beautiful — it might sound vain but it's the way the world works — so Bella fits perfectly.

I watch Isabella when the panic sets in, and I act on instinct. I move forwards and cage her in against the bookcase, my hard body pressing against her soft one. I place my legs on either side of her and my arms at the side of her head. How dare she deny our mating?

Mates cannot deny one another; they are meant to be. I feel the pain of her rejection.

"Yes. You are, Isabella. Why else would I save you from James?" I growl and she quivers in fear. I try to calm down and detract my fangs but it's hard with the scent of her fear in the air and the anger at her rejection.

She surprises me by ducking out beneath me and making a run for it. My mate, is running away from me. She doesn't want me.

I feel something stab at me in the place that my dead heart belongs.

"Isabella." I race after her, trailing her scent to find her already gone from the library.

James chooses this moment to stalk out of his office, a sneer across his face.

"Already lost your mate?"

"Don't say a thing, unless you want to lose your balls." I fling aside a chair and ignore the skittering of the little humans and their indignant cries.

Nobody walks away from Edward Cullen.

I stalk out of the library and down the pavement where I follow her scent. I can hear her beating heart from here and the pounding of her footsteps upon the pavement. She can never run from me, I'm her mate and I'll always be here. I stop dead when I see she's gone into a foster home.

Why would she go to a foster home?

I move closer and hear voices, the voices of children calling our for their "Auntie Bella". Why is she caring for other people's abandoned children? My brain isn't in any rational place to contemplate these thoughts, so I find a spot opposite of the building and make a bed to lie in for the near future. I'm not going to move until she comes out.

She's been in there hours now and it's dark. She's not eaten, I know this for sure. It's completely unacceptable that she isn't taking proper care of herself. Also, she hasn't got a car here so she would be walking home in the dark when anybody could be around. This will be the first thing to stop, her lack of thought for herself.

I'm going to walk her home and make sure she gains her three good meals of the day to make her fit and healthy, especially if she's going to bear my children. She'll be under my protection and she will never leave my sight. No late night sauntering, especially unaccompanied.

She exits from the building and I smell the fear in an instant as she scouts around. She draws her bag close to her and scuttles off down the path in the direction of what I assume is her apartment. She's huddled into herself while she keeps away from the dark areas, and I follow her in the shadows. It seems she's still scared of me and maybe now isn't the right time to alarm her.

I can be patient because I will wait for her.

I keep my mind open so I can read the people around her, and not sensing anybody makes me feel calmer. A new mind pops into my provisional sight and I immediately delve deeper but when I see memories of Bella and taste the concentrated scent of her around the area and around the female, my muscles relax. I hurry to catch up and survey the scene.

I allow myself to relax but I stare on in horror when Bella attacks the poor girl — who's her roommate — with pepper spray. Where does she get pepper spray from?

Pepper spray wouldn't be much good against a vampire though. I watch her blush and apologize when she finally recognizes the girl is her friend. The girl helps her into the apartment. I smile.  
>Knowing I can sense her around me and around the area so strongly tells me the bond is strong.<p>

I position myself under the street lamp opposite and listen to the goings on within her apartment. She comes up to the window and looks out. I listen to smug satisfaction when her heart beat races and she gasps. I raise my hand with a smug grin but it's too late as the curtains are drawn closed and she blocks me out again.

_Damn it! Isabella Swan, I will not allow you to block me from you life_, I grouse. I stand there for a few more moments.

I know I need to go home, even if just for a few moments, to collect the bracelet that was given to me when I came into the vampire world. Each of the gifted vampires are given a bracelet so that our royalty, known as the Volturi, can keep track of our mates. Being gifted means we need a strong mate and the Volturi want to ensure that we are tied to keep us balanced and on the earth. Our vampire lives span over centuries, so it's unclear when we might find our mate, and because many soul mates are not born within the same general time of our births, we generally have to wait a long time. So, when we find them, the Volturi are determined that we will keep them. Some vampires doubt that they will ever find their mate, but there has never been a doubt in my mind, ever.

Then Isabella tips that self-worth upside down by not reacting how she's supposed to. She's supposed to be happy and want me, not run away. That's why I need the bracelet — to make sure I can keep track of her properly. If the Volturi found out that she didn't have it on, there would be consequences.

I can't figure out the issue without being able to see into her mind but I've gathered something is wrong because of her eyes; they're so expressive — like an open book.

I lean back against the lamp post, not caring if it might be covered in dog pee or the remnants of somebody's tasteless chewing gum. I Just want to spend a few more refreshing moments in the night sky, this endless ocean of mystery, while I breathe in Isabella's scent.

I'm only inches of brick and mortar away from my beloved, beautiful mate. One I intend to secure with me for eternity. It may be the only selfish act I ever again allow myself to do, taking away her life when I bind her to me, but I really cannot allow her to escape me. Something long and forgotten is rising within me and I'm crying out for her touch. I feel incomplete when I don't have her love and affection. I understand that these things don't materialise in an instance no matter what the type of bond or how much wishing I do, but she to feel something for me, because I don't think I can cope with this aching loneliness.

It's a beacon of pain and hurt that's stabbing at my non-pulsing heart, and while it's cruel of her, I can't bring myself not to want everything for her, to give her everything because my inner beast is yearning for her.

That scorching warm body for me to curl around. To protect and cherish and lavish with every gift and treasure known to man. It's all I've ever wanted. What did I do wrong? Why did she run?

The bracelet can't force her will — which I wouldn't want to do, like some — I just want to bring us closer.

If I can get the bracelet upon her delicate arm, I know I have a hope of finding her heart. The bracelet will not only satisfy my inner self, and my need to protect her by being able to monitor her every move, but it will highlight to others she's mine. Some may say it's a violation of privacy, but nothing can come between two mates. The true bond between mates means nothing can be a secret and that everything is shared. In the moments of union when you exchange blood it is said to feel as though the vampire and mate are one. They can slip between each other's minds and find every hidden cavern when it is opened up completely.

When both of you are open to the invasion of the other, no matter the barriers placed between mates, when blood is exchanged, they can interlock minds and share the joy, passion and love of the moment.

I've heard it's something wondrous, and even though I have experienced many things in my long existence, mating is a wholly new and experience that I'm excited for.

The bracelet also contains part of my essence. It will keep my Isabella calm, to an extent, to feel my scent against her skin, whether she is aware of it or not, so if we have to be parted for several hours it will ease her discomfort. It also helps to develop the feelings when she becomes accustomed to my scent and feels the urge to be near me.

It may seem unfair to an outsider, but to reject the mating or run from it causes unnecessary harm and hurt for both parties involved. I will neither allow Isabella the chance to reject me or run from me again. The dangerous temptress by the name of Isabella Swan has tested my control to the fine line today, more than it has ever been in my long existence. The beast within me knows she can't escape and it won't allow it. No matter how much the logical part of my brain remembers the calculating look upon her face as she ran, or as she hustled home to her apartment, I just can't live without her. It's not a place I intend to allow her to stay in much longer; she will soon, very soon, be locked away in my house, home, my bed and certainly my heart.

She's making my dead heart want to beat and hum to the tune of hers. Tomorrow, I will make Isabella Swan, irrevocably mine forever, and cure the ever rising loneliness within me.

* * *

><p>I find myself feeling nervous – something I haven't felt since being human. A trait so foreign to me that I don't understand what it actually is at first. It confuses me enough to make me pause at the entrance to Isabella's apartment. To know she's already affected me so drastically, makes me yearn all that more for her. Can I press the buzzer to change that even more?<p>

My hand reaches for the buzzer on gut instinct rather than the use of my brain. I know I could press this buzzer for the rest of existence just to hear her voice again. However, it's not my beautiful angel that answers.

"Hello. Angela and Bella's apartment, who is it?"

It's Isabella's room mate, who must be this Angela girl. I step closer to the microphone.

"I'm a friend of Bella's. We met yesterday at the library, I'm not sure if she mentioned me but she ran off in a hurry and she left behind her purse. Can I bring it up?"

I know it's wrong to tell lies, but I need to see Bella, and I have no idea how this girl is going to react. I'm basically helpless and I don't like it one bit. I could rip open the door and barge my way in, but it's hardly going to make Isabella feel comfortable, when she's already acting like a frightened kitten around me. An adorably skittish one but one that's not learned to walk and needs to be taught how to walk.

"Sure. I'll just buzz you up. She's still in bed, so I'll go rile her up in a minute."

"No need, I don't mind waiting."

She doesn't reply, just buzzes me up. So I swiftly glide through the now open door and up to the second floor where my Isabella resides, from here I can hear her little snores and sighs while she's asleep.

The shadow of a girl I saw last night is revealed to me in the light of day and looking a little worse off, with puffy red eyes with shadows beneath. Otherwise, she is perfectly healthy until she moves, then she starts to wince.

"Oh. My God." She gawks at me and I realise this girl must know exactly who I am as she stands there with her jaw wide open. She blinks several times and shifts her head to look behind me, before she focuses back to me.

"Did-d-d you meet, Bella yesterday?"

"Yes."

"You're, like, the Edward Cullen, though."

I chuckle. "I am the Edward Cullen."

"Oh gosh! You better come in, please!" She quickly shuffles aside and I notice her eyes never leave me.

"I'm sorry. I may have given a little white lie to get up here, but I don't think I made a very good impression upon, Isabella yesterday. You see, she happened to faint and then she ran away."

Angela nods her head soberly. "It's not you, or at least it's nothing personal. It's just Bella. She's different. A little broken and delicate."

"Right."

I nod my head. Why would Bella be broken and delicate?

"I'm guessing the chat isn't going to be all flowers and delights?"

I turn my head to her in surprise, she seems to be observant.

"Thought so. Go easy on her okay, she hasn't had the easiest of experience with your kind."

My kind? I follow Angela as she leads the way and I find myself in their quaint little kitchen. It's small and homely with the little wooden table and surrounding surfaces making it feel warm and cosy. I can tell immediately it's the heart of their apartment. I watch with disgust as she begins to make coffee for Bella; something I will be weaning Isabella off. Coffee is extremely bad and it doesn't create a healthy body. Isabella's body should be a temple, especially if she is to bear my child.

Angela scurries out of the room once the coffee is brewing, leaving me with strict instructions for me to poor it into Bella's mug. I have to say I admire her choice of mug. It has wonderful words and phrases that have been coined on the side; it's rather unique.

I hear an agonised cry, a thump and then a sob.

I straighten up and turn to the sound of the distress. Immediately within my soul I know it's Isabella, and I take a step towards the kitchen exit in hopes of finding her, to comfort her. I listen to Angela talking to her and then I hear her thoughts.

_Edward killed Riley. _

I freeze. I was in her dreams, only I was the cause of a nightmare. I was the cause of her distress. Guilt overwhelms me at the thought of me being the source of her anguish. She truly finds me that disturbing ... what have I done?

I stalk back towards the coffee machine and begin viciously banging around the crockery, rather uselessly, to vent. I end up breaking a mug and a teaspoon, thankfully not Isabella's. I practically gag as I pour the foul smelling brown liquid into the mug, and move it over to the side, ready to give it to her when she arrives.

She's coming to me now, stumbling down the hallway in her bare feet and rumpled from her disrupted sleep. Could she be seeking me out? I quash down the idea because she hates me, she truly hates me. Even the mating bond couldn't bring her to me in this moment. I don't have to be able to read her mind to know that much.

She sounds so forlorn and worried when she questions Angela on the visitor. Finally, she enters the kitchen and if I were human, my heart would have surely skipped a beat. She looks divine.

Her hair is ruffled around her face, like a bird's nest. Her eyes are hazy and filled with sleep, leaving her looking disorientated. She's wearing a pair of shorts fancy shorts that reveal her bare silky legs to my eyes. So long and supple. Then, a little black camisole that clings to her body and shows off her curves.

She doesn't seem to notice me at first because she scuttles across the kitchen totally oblivious. That is, until I hold my hand out, and the mug within, just at her eye level. She lets out a little gasp. Her heart stutters before starting to pound frantically while her chest rises and falls making her vest flutter with the movements and expose interesting glimpses of those two creamy mounds beneath. My mouth waters at the thought of those bare to me and only me.

"Drink." I prompt her gently, afraid of her dashing away like a frightened lamb.

I try to go carefully, not moving anything but my hand. I make my tone calming and gentle to reassure her. What's happened to the strong, independent, albeit slightly skittish woman I met yesterday?

"Thanks," she whispers. She sounds so insecure as her shaking hands take the coffee from me. I notice how she avoids touching my skin or moving too close. She frowns upon inspection of her coffee. It offends me a little, I must say. Could she really think so lowly of me as to try and plant something in her drink?

"I've not poisoned it; Angela made it!" I watch her intently while she takes a gulp. It doesn't really do a lot to appease me until she guzzles it down, her eyes fluttering closed and she moans quietly while she slurps. It seems she may be a little bit of a coffee whore.

"Coffee isn't good for you."

Her eyes flicker open and blaze in defiance to my words. I feel my inner beast rattle around to be released at that one look.

"But it tastes good." She takes the coffee cup over to the machine and I grimace. I question her on whether she's going to drink more coffee, feeling disgruntled at just the thought.

I catch her arm when she sweeps past me, using the moment to gain skin privileges that I should already have!

"Yeah, I am. Now would you kindly remove your hand from my body? I don't like being told what to do: I'll have as many cups of coffee as I like." She tugs her arm free from my grip and slinks over to the coffee machine.

I glare at the machine for a moment before stepping to place myself between her and her robe. I know she'll be looking for it in a moment and then she'll have to face me. Just as I suspected, she ends up heading towards me, after a moment of panic that occurs when she realizes what she is wearing.

I can't deny that my eyes didn't roam over her body or fixate on her pert little butt but I'm a dominant male who oozes sex, so when my attractive, sexy mate is placed before me, I'm not going to be thinking about daisies and my next deer.

She stops just before me and I smile, understanding her situation but unwilling to move.

"You're in my way." She points.

"So I am." I smirk, feeling smug. Unable to resist the call of her skin, I cup her chin with my larger, rougher hand and rub my thumb across her cheek. It allows me to settles the restlessness within me, the part that demands I take her, claim her.

"What are you doing?" Her heartbeat flutters wildly under my ministrations.

I refrain from saying petting you, out of fear of ruffling her feathers and when I say petting, I want to imply much more than simply touching. I want it to mean the whole, naked, intimate touching.

I feel the humour of the situation flicker between us and we seem to connect for a moment. The magic is quickly lost when she asks me to remove my hand but I do so without a fuss, feeling a little bereft.

She quickly scoops up her robe and shrugs into it with a swift movement.

"You don't have to cover up your body for me, I'm your m—"

"Don't say that word!" She slams a brick wall between us again, preventing any connection that was beginning to blossom, any hope of survival.

Rejection.

It hurts more than she can ever think. If she doesn't learn to accept our bond, it'll eventually kill her. I haven't told her because that will only scare her more and it's not something commonly known, but if mates are separated over a long period of time, they slowly start to sink into madness and disgrace. They don't feel the need to care for themselves, keep themselves groomed and properly trimmed. It takes a couple of months for the effects to become more noticeable but then they drop from there on to even worse. After six months if the parties haven't already gone mad, they are usually clinically insane and trying to commit suicide.

I don't want to be pushy but it's how the vampire society works. It's completely normal for us to behave like this because, after all, we aren't human. We are part animal.

"We need to talk." I turn to glare at the window, jamming my hands into my pocket and oozing a cold, dejected look to her. I can sense her emotions and the confusion and hesitancy she feels to my mood. I can't bring myself to care — she brought this on, she should fix it.

After all, I'm a monster come to eat her while she sleeps. Why would she ever want me?

I listen while she shifts her weight around and attempt to walk towards me. I grow tired or waiting for her to decide if she'll ever actually reach me, never mind touch me. I spin around and she shrieks.

I grasp at her body and prevent her from falling into the table. I take in the cringe and the freezing of her movements. They're like a slap across the face.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to scare you." I look into her eyes and feel a deep sorrow within me.

Anguish.

Anguish over everything. Messing up. Bella.

"It's o-okay." She adorable even if she doesn't want me.

I quickly drop my hold on her, not wanting to make her feel any more hate towards me.

"I'll go wait on the couch." I leave her behind in the kitchen to finish whatever she needs.

I drop onto the couch and bring my head to rest in my hands while I wallow for a moment in self pity. If it were physically possible for me now, I fear I would be sobbing. She's just torn out my heart, stomped on it, and stabbed it over and over again … what am I really meant to do?

The answer is simple and yet excruciating. Leave … until she realises she needs me. When she calls for me and only then will I come. And if she never calls, I will just have to find a way to sufficiently satisfy the bond between us to try and give her a happy life for as long as possible.

I clench my fists and hiss through my teeth. Why, oh why, did I fall for somebody who seems incapable of ever loving me back?

I truly am the monster I see reflected in her eyes. Just a monster, never to be loved. My body shakes and shivers as I silently sob without a noise, without a tear.

For I am a monster, eternally damned.

* * *

><p>The bracelet is firmly placed upon her wrist, not to be removed and that's the only thing giving me a sane mind at the moment. The anger that has been building and stewing is bubbling over and I want to beat something to a pulp. I kick my foot against the concrete and raise a dint in the pathway while destroying most of my good shoes.<p>

Why should I care about shoes? When ever step I take feels like another burning poker is being stabbed into my heart. I get I can be cocky, annoying, and a total bastard at times but what had I done?

Nothing!

"Emmett." The first number on my speed dial.

"What's up, little brother?"

"My place. Gym. Bring Jasper. Now!"

I cut the phone dead and simultaneously break out into a run. Weaving around speeding cars and walking people. I can't stand the closed in feeling, the consuming traffic. I've left my car behind, I'd break my baby in my current state.

My feet pound out the hurt, anger and heartbreak while I pick up the pace. My anger is like a second skin now. I don't slow not until I reach home and have vaulted over the high fence and wall and smash through the lower window to the gym.

Emmett and Jasper are waiting, resting each against a piece of gym equipment. They take one look at my appearance and both stand to attention. I watch Jasper's face as a mirage of emotions cover it. I don't bring myself to invade in on their personal thoughts, my own swimming enough for us all.

"Edward." Jasper speaks first and I growl, flexing my muscles and motioning for Emmett to fight me.

"Maybe we should take this outside." Emmett suggests.

"No. Now. Then you—" I point at Emmett. "—are going to watch her. I can't, I need to sort my head out."

I launch at Jasper who blocks me as I attempt to battle out my frustration. Jasper pins me against the wall in a quick motion and I flip him off.

"Watch who?" Emmett holds his hand up in a motion of peace.

Jasper lands a swift punch to my gut and I double over for a moment.

"Isabella Swan." I want to damn her to hell, scream her name but it merely sounds soppy and full of love.

"She's your mate." I nod my head and launch myself at him again. He lands flat on his back, no longer attempting to fight me.

"Who is she, Edward? Tell us." Jasper prompts me while pushing me away, none too gently.

"She doesn't want me. Doesn't fucking want me, because she's afraid. Afraid of me, her own mate. She flinches when I touch her, screams in her sleep about me attacking her. She hates me. I look into her eyes and see a monster reflected back at me."

I turn on them. I feel them watching me warily and I toss my sunglasses aside. I catch myself in the mirror and I see the epitome of the monster she saw. The dark, black eyes, the cruel harsh lines of my face.

"I'm unwanted!" I fling one of the running machines over and into the mirror.

"Watch her, Emmett."

I bust through the basement wall and back out into the sunlight. Open woods are on the other side of my house, the open world. I fly over the fence and start running.

Away from everything.

Away from my family.

And most of all, away from the pain and hurt of not being wanted, by the very person designed to love me.

* * *

><p>How long has it been now?<p>

I couldn't tell you. Weeks. Days. I'm living out my dream, the cave, the dark, damp hole and the occasional hunt.

I don't know how else to deal with the pain and the hurt. I've had enough of life, of everything.

My phone rings … I couldn't tell you why I haven't destroyed it or turned it off by now. I guess I cling to my connection to the world.

It's Alice.

"Hello?"

"Edward, you are being entirely irresponsible. If you aren't at that movie premier tonight, you can say goodbye to Isabella. You're going with Tanya!"

Then she hangs up.

_What the hell?_

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Twilight, nor any of it's characters.

Thanks to **busybee37**, for her continual support and sorry I haven't spoken in ages!

Thanks to my wonderful beta, who teaches me so much! **Her Mighty Ubergeekness.**

You can find me on Twitter at **NerdetteLove **and I have the link on my profile along with the link to the** Fatum Lamarium Banner.**

I've reposted the first two chapters of Fatum Lamarium after my new beta checked them, and I'm finally posting something new.

I don't intend to keep repeating chapters from different POVs this is a one off.

Thanks for sticking with me, and don't feel shy about **leaving a review. **

Thank you once again, and I hope to post more regularly now, I have the next chapter typed, so full steam ahead!

**Nerdette! x**


	5. Protection

**Title update: Fatum Lamarium into Fatum Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**  
>Alone In This Bed by Framing Hanley<br>All I Wanted by Paramore  
>I See You by Mika<p>

**~Chapter Four~**

.Protection.

_**BPOV**_

I've always believed in being independent, and part of that is being able to protect myself. To those ends, I was always aware of my surroundings. It might have something to do with having to support myself as a child while looking after my mum and dad. My mum was scatterbrained. It meant she often forgot the little things, like having to grocery shop, or having to pay a bill. My dad was of Chief of Forks' police, which meant every day I had drilled into me how important it was to be vigilant of my surroundings. I never really took him seriously; I was naive. It made me underestimate people, and overlook warning signals. I overlooked everything, in fact until the fatal day, where I made the wrong decision. I could never understand how people came around to make such idiotic decisions, but when you're in a dire situation, it's like anything goes. I did something stupid.

I don't believe we can know the workings of our own mind, not really. Whether human or a vampire, we can't go about predicting the future to know everything. Tomorrow is always going to be a surprise.

Even now, I can't bring myself to trust my judgement, even after all this time. He took that away from me. Vampires, I try to stay away from altogether. Every dealing I've had with them has been unpleasant. They don't show any kind of feeling or emotion, only a wall of uncaring hostility, and underneath that was an evil within.

When I think of Edward, he confuses me. He acts so much like a human, and he does everything I don't expect him to do. He doesn't fit into my mold of how vampires are, and it scares me.

The fear of vampires, started in my teen years, and it never went away. It's my own fault for allowing it to happen; I got caught up in the wonder and novelty of them, and in the end, I nearly allowed them to break me.

Unfortunately, I work for one now. It's hard to avoid them, but this was a result of Angela's idea to "combat my fear" and become "a strong independent woman". It's worked to an extent. I don't walk around cringing and having panic attacks every time I see a vampire, but I just can't get close. After all, you can't eradicate a downright evil vampire from your mental plane totally.

I sigh.

My thoughts drift back to the childhood that I spent in Forks. The times I was with my father, and how he always tried to teach me the ways of a cop. I was only ten, but he was determined I would be the safest child in Forks, and the smartest street-wise. Charlie never wanted me to a be a cop, he just wanted me to be safe, so he gave me many lessons in life. They may not have been the average lessons for a ten-year old, but they were good nonetheless:  
>Stay away from naughty boys.<p>

No riding motorcycles, ever.

Tell me if you're going out.

No smoking, alcohol or drugs, ever!

Don't talk to strangers.

Don't take candy from a stranger.

And certainly, never, ever go off with a stranger.

If somebody attacks you, scream and run. You ain't gonna to be able to fight them, Bella, so just run.

If you ever get arrested — and I god well hope you don't — make sure you have a goddamn lawyer and don't answer anything until he gets there!

And the most important thing: never leave your pepper spray at home.

Charlie always prided himself on being able to protect society and bring criminals to justice. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, which he always instilled in me, but when it came down to it, he just couldn't protect me forever. After all, I don't have any self-preservation instincts; I can't walk without tripping over thin air, so self-defense is out. The only thing I've ever had for protection is pepper spray. It always made me uncomfortable to carry it around, but by my teen years he demanded I do so, because it gave him a peace of mind.

Trying to protect me was his way of showing he loved me. We didn't show our affection a lot, but it was there, deep down. He just thought if he could protect me then, I'd remain his little girl, safe and sound, always.

I just don't think we realised how much of a full time job protection actually is.

It's been three weeks, five days and just over twelve hours since I kicked Edward out of my life and out of my apartment. I had a little break down when he first left, wondering what the hell I'd done, but I've fully recuperated now. I'm just serving to count time instead. I didn't start counting the minutes, but I think hours, days and weeks are sad enough.

I stare at the computer screen, feeling utterly drained of energy. I haven't had a decent nights sleep in over a week. The same dream comes, over and over again. It's hard to define it as a nightmare, when it's not something one would call scary. It's just him: Edward. Over and over again, he plays on my conscience and I can't take it any more.

_He stands there, in the middle of my apartment, every time, just under the doorway arch with that __heartbreaking, downtrodden expression on his face. He looks at me for what seems like forever, and I feel myself breaking apart. I mutter his name, begging him to come back to me. _

_Then he does, and it's so unbelievably simple. He drifts towards me with such fluidity and ease, it's just pure beauty. Then, when he's inches away from me where I'm kneeling on the floor, breaking apart while I wait for him, he stops. _

"_You need to call me and ask me back. I can't come without your invitation." _

_I scream, beg, plead with him to come back to me. I try to crawl to him, but I always find us unmoving; we're frozen in time. He tells me over and over again to call him. I ask him how and he says, "You know." It makes me sob so much harder. _

At that moment, I wake up, and like clockwork I find myself covered in sweat, shivering, clutching the bracelet on my arm to me in a cradle, and sobbing. I don't know what Edward was worried about when he told me not to take the thing off. It doesn't even have a locking mechanism, so how could I?

I can hear James in the office, pacing back and forth across his small, cramped office. He's hardly muttered three words to me since Edward's first and only appearance in the library. It's unnerving. It makes me creep around him because I feel like he's a wound spring, ready to fire off. James has always had a wild edge, a predatory stalker beneath a cool facade, but now it seems to have been permanently driven away when in my presence.

_I'd walked into the library the morning after Edward left, and dropped my bag off in the office, when James caught me scuttling out. He wanted to reprimand me on escaping the day before, at the end of my shift. _

"_Isabella, we need to speak about your actions yesterday. Running away from Mr Cullen."_

_His expression was sour and deadly. _

_I twisted my hands together and rolled up my sleeves, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. _

"_I finished my shift." I try to defend myself. _

"_It doesn't matter about your shift, Isabella. You ran out on a very important client, and that is a serious matter. He's a_—"

"_Vampire." I finish for him, and his eyes flicker to mine, the anger blazing just above the surface at my defiance. _

"_How do you know?" He growls, obviously feeling out done by a human. _

_I shift again, uncomfortable. Folding my arms across my body in an attempt to protect myself, I fiddle with the lapels of my jacket, while murmuring. "He told me." _

"_It is unacceptable, Isabella, and he could have you sacked. In fact, you most likely should be sacked ..." _

_James' eyes zero in on my arm and onto the bracelet before drifting back to my face. I watch the change in his demeanor through the whole episode. His growls cut off and his eyes flicker back from the bracelet, to me, and back to the bracelet. _

"_However, I'm not going to fire you, this time, Isabella. I gather it's all a misunderstanding? So we have no need to bring it up again. You should get back to work. I'm sorry for taking up your time." _

_I almost fainted at those words. James was apologising _— _he never apologises! _

_He still looks angry, but manages to keep himself composed. _

"_Thanks, I guess." I turn to leave and my whole body sags in relief. _

He's been nice, helpful, even friendly — a word one would never associate with James — since then. I can't even begin to describe him, my words aren't adequate enough. It's like he's trying to gain my approval.

It's really been confusing me, seeing him go so far out of his way to accommodate me; it's unnatural, especially when he's a vampire who prides himself on being the upper species of society. It goes against not only his nature and what he says as the natural hierarchy, but James' actual personality. It's petrified me. What's going to come next?

I'm waiting for him to snap, to finally bend so far over the edge, he can't take being decent anymore. I know he already feels bitter towards me. Even if I am beneath him, he seems to think I have it good. He hasn't lived my life, so he has no right to judge me and say I have it good. He won the evolutionary lottery in becoming a vampire. They might not seem to be the rulers of the world, but they're all there. They're in the White House, CIA, FBI, Secret Service. Maybe not the top men, but why be that when you can be the masterminds behind the scenes?

Everybody is so blind to the manipulation of the vampires. We all stare in wonder like the cattle we are, standing in our flocks on our high-rise city streets, watching the vampires zoom by or sparkle on the big screens. It makes me wonder: how many vampires are there in the world and are there enough of us to keep them fed and watered for life?

So here I am, scanning books onto the system after James decided carting books around the library wasn't a healthy job for me to be doing. I had no idea what that actually meant, so I just nodded and got on with my work. I didn't want to aggravate him and change his kindness, as I know how temperamental James can actually be.

I've been watching the clock repeatedly for the past few hours, feeling my chest grow tighter and my heart weigh heavier at every passing moment. It's hard to explain, but I feel like I'm missing a cog that makes the wheels turn. I'm like an empty shell without that cog and I've felt like this ever since Edward left.

I haven't admitted it to anybody, but I know, deep down, Edward's taken that cog with him.

It's getting harder and harder to put on a face and smile. I see the cracks get bigger every day, not visible ones — ones buried deep beneath the layers of skin and fake smiles.

The cracks inside.

I feel like I'm tearing apart but I'm not about to admit that. It's failure — admitting I need somebody's help.

And the thought that I could possibly need Edward. It had to be him, nobody else, and that thought scares me more than James' behaviour, more than dying. Needing Edward meant trusting Edward.

That trust just seems impossible.

"Isabella, your shift finished five minutes ago, what are you still doing here?" James frowns as he leans over the library counter. His elbows resting on the top, as his face looms closer to me, his fangs peeking out over his lips.

I had been staring at the clock continually, and the moment I choose no longer to look, my time runs out. _Great!_

"Oh, I didn't realise. I'll be off then; see you Monday." I move back into the depths of the office to pick up my bag — the place I now am allowed to store my bag without fear for my life. I head down towards the foster home.

I've been going four times a week for the past few weeks. I need the distraction. It's keeping me sane.

I trudge down the few blocks to the foster home. A ten minute walk that I make in relative silence and peace, not bothered by passers by or the rough people that hang around this end of town. I have my pepper spray and the little self defence Charlie taught me as a child, so I feel safe.

I've never really been worried about my own personal safety — self preservation isn't a word in my mind. But, as I walk down to the foster home, I feel like I'm being watched — again. I've felt it a lot lately, ever since Edward left. Like I have eyes constantly watching me, tracking my every move.

I pull my jacket closer around me and clutch my bag tighter, as I slip my hand in the front pocket and feel for the pepper spray. It relaxes me a little, to know I have some kind of protection. Even against an immortal, indestructible vampire.

That thought sets my stomach rolling again, clenching and squeezing until I think I'm going to puke my guts out. Thinking of vampires really doesn't ease my mind, it makes me think of _him _and then it makes me think of being weak and vulnerable again.

Finally, I think of Edward.

And that, I really can't handle.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I push open the foster home door and slip inside.

As usual, Riley is waiting on the old, rather worn stairs — the prominent feature of the entrance hallway. He's bouncing up and down. I smile, when his adorable little face lights up with a smile, his eyes sparkle, his hair bounces softly as it cups his face and his dimples show, making him look incredibly cute.

"Riley-kins!"

He runs down the few steps and leaps into my arms, making me take a step back with the impact of his small body against my own. I stabilise myself quickly, pulling him up further into my arms.

"Auntie Bella-boo!"

I wrap my arms around him and he giggles.

We've only just started with the nicknames; it slipped out by accident when I was tucking him into bed last week. He'd smiled more than ever before and called me "Bella-boo", it had stuck ever since.

I hated that I showed favouritism to Riley so much above the other children, and my inner self told me that it was wrong, but I just couldn't help myself.

The bond between Riley and me is like that between a mother and child. I know Riley's mum left him on the doorsteps of the foster home when he was young, and he doesn't remember her, but I don't see why or even how she could give up such an adorable child. My heart reaches out for him because never having known your mother is a terrible crime, but to never know either of your parents is even worse. I've always had at least one of my parents in my life, and when one of them was gone, it was a pain beyond imagination. I still couldn't imagine living without either.

Most of the children have some form of a past, but Riley, has nothing and nobody. I am the only person who visits him. I guess I connect to him because he's so alone; it brings out a protective instinct inside of me.

"Story time."

I hear the children in the house come racing from their hiding places, rooms and other engagements to gain the best seat in the playroom.

It was a rather surprise visit tonight, which is why they weren't already waiting for me in the playroom. Riley, however, sits on the stairs, every night, waiting for me. It makes my heart beat a little faster, because I'm swamped with guilt of disappointing him. Children are impressionable and they attach to people easily. It takes a long time to let go after someone moves on. So I visit every night of the week, to see Riley, even if it's just for ten minutes. It isn't really a chore, it's more enjoyment than anything.

It's grounded me over the past three weeks, to have this one constant in my life when everything else has made me want to cry and give in. Riley has never changed.

Who would have thought a man I have met little over twice, know nothing about, and haven't spoken to in weeks could affect me in such a way. I really couldn't, but it raised the issue of mating.

I've been researching it even more, ever since he left. I read something else, something scary.

If the mating is not declared to the Volturi — the vampire royalty — then they take matters into their own hands. They expect all mating to be declared to them, and for males to be caring, living, nurturing and loving their mates in their home. _Oh God!_

The word "loving" was a rather daunting term, as it wasn't meant wholly in the sense of love, but in the physical act of making love, and the fact that mated couples were expected to move into the male's home immediately; that's down right preposterous. Something neither Edward nor I have done, and apparently something there will be consequences for.

I tried to soothe myself by saying we weren't a mated couple so it didn't apply to us, and we weren't an important pair of people, just normal. It said this was mandatory on the 'gifted' few especially, but eventually after several months, all mated pairs should have declared themselves and be cohabiting.

Yet things only got worse when I read on, and I had to calm myself down from a full blown panic attack.

Human, female mates are expected to produce a baby before their change.

There are three stages to the process in which you must exchange blood with a vampire. The first blood exchange happens within the first "mating". The second happens after "marriage" or some other similar ceremony tying the couple together depending upon the couple's beliefs and choices, and the final blood exchange happens after the child is born.

No escape. Except for me and Edward. He said he would leave me to live my life. We don't need each other; we are an exception to the mating case because we're not mated!

I've said before, I've never followed destiny, destiny is of my own making and choosing.

After an hour of reading, I feel myself begin to tire, so I call the day to an end. The children sigh and whine a little, but all eventually start to pull themselves up from the floor, ready for bed though there are several that are, most likely, ready to cause mayhem.

I move to the far side of the room, beside the door, to pack up my bag.

_BANG!_

The door busts open …

Two big, bulky guys dressed in black leather enter. Their heads are skinned and their skulls are shiny and pale. The t-shirts they are wearing are stretched across their beefy chests to make them look all the more intimidating. They have identical tattoos etched on the side of their necks: a dagger through a heart. They tower above me in height, and consume the doorway with their wide frames. Matching smirks are plastered across their faces, and _fangs_hang over their lower lips, gleaming in the light.

I gulp.

I hear the wail of a child behind me, but I can't bring my eyes to move from the me. I start to inch backwards, towards the children. Riley's cool, small palm slips into my own and takes a firm, unyielding grip upon my hand.

The men sneer.

I reach behind me and draw Riley against my leg in hopes of comforting and protecting him. I have little hope in succeeding in either with these huge monstrosities filling the doorway, but that doesn't mean I can't try.

"Well aren't you a pretty little lady." One of the vampires looks me up and down, his leer revolting me.

"What do you want?" I try to look menacing.

"Wouldn't you like to know, darlin'? I can certainly take you along for the ride. A ride on me." He laughs.

I feel my lips mash up at the crudeness of his words, especially in front of the children.

"I said, 'what do you want'?"

"Ohhh. Feisty." The other one chuckles.

"If you want money, you've certainly come to the wrong place."

"Money?" They look between each other, and an evil looking glint passes between them.

"We don't want your money. We want him!" He jabs his fat finger in the direction of Riley.

_If he thinks he's having my Riley-kins, he can think again. _

"Well you can't have him." I draw my other arm around Riley and shuffle slightly to stand before him.

"Oh, we can have anything we want."

I press my hands into Riley to stop the evidence of my fear showing.

"No you can't."

The bigger of the two vampires step forward, and I immediately thrust Riley behind me and into the huddle of children who drag him into them.

"Now that was silly." He growls and dashes before me. I raise my hands in self-defense and his bone crushing hands drop down onto my upper arms. He pulls me against him like a rag doll.

I refuse to make a sound as his fingers dig into the flesh on my arms. That's sure to leave bruises. I'll be lucky if I don't end up with a broken bone.

His eyes bare down into my own and I see no compassion, no feeling. Just the heartlessness that consumes most vampires.

"Don't try to fuck with me."

The children behind gasp along with me. Although I gasp when his hands bite deeper into the muscle of my arms. I fight the tears that threaten to spill.

"I said you are not taking him. That's the end of it."

He cocks a brow and his lips twist into a maniacal smile, revealing his elongated fangs.

"Think you're in a position to bargain, little lady?"  
>I hold my stead.<p>

"I repeat: you will not touch him."

He laughs in my face, spraying venom over me, and I swallow the bile that rises in my throat.

"I'd like to see you stop me."

I raise my arm that isn't trapped so completely by him and move to hit him, when somebody else enters the room.

"She might not be able to stop you, but I certainly will. Now, put the little lady down, and you might want to check her arm while you're being so careless these days."

I try to see who my mysterious saviour is, but I can't see. It doesn't sound like anybody I know, and it doesn't sound like Edward, so who is it?

The vampire holding me turns and the mystery man is revealed. It does nothing to ease my fears; he's a vampire too, although he has golden eyes.

Golden means good. Right?

The other vampire holding me freezes, but then begins to chuckle.

"Oh, you boys think you're real tough, swooping in to save measly little vermin when you should be eating it for breakfast. You seem to have forgotten one little fact: there is two of us, and only one of you. Not got your little brothers to back you up now."

I take a moment to look at the vampire before me, he looks just as intimidating, with his big bulky frame and fangs. His hair is dark brown, slightly curly and he has dimples that remind me of Riley. I would even go so far as to say he's handsome. His eyes are his defining feature, big and golden. They remind me of Edward.

I sob.

_Edward. _

The hands on my arms dig and grab me tighter.

"Ah."

The other one, my "saviour" hisses. "Put her down, and I suggest you check her arm."

He drops me carelessly to the floor, and I find my knees giving out, so I crumble on the floor. The brute holding me grabs my arm and yanks it in the opposite direction, making me cry out with the pain.

"Be careful."

"Shut it, pretty boy—"

I watch his eyes go wide after he begins to stare at the bracelet clasped around my wrist.

"Oh, she didn't say anything about this did she?" He yanks my arm further into the air to show his friend who shares his expression, and shakes his head.

"I guess you got lucky this time, pretty lady. We won't be so lenient in future. This bracelet don't mean shit to me, but when he's about, not much I can do for fear of bringing the whole ruddy world down on me." He thrusts my arm away from him and charges from the room, followed by his friend.

Leaving me and the vampire.

I crumble back down, and take a deep steady breath.

"Are you okay?"

A pair of pale hands reach out towards me, and I flinch. They move back away and I shuffle towards the children before looking up at him.

"I'm fine."

"At least let me check your arm."

"So that's why you're cradling it?"

"No!"

"Stubborn, just like he said."

"Who said?"

"Nobody." His answer, quick and brief, makes me uneasy.

"Why are you here?"

"I heard some trouble going off, and decided to check it out."

"What's my bracelet for?"

"It's a gift from the Volturi—"

"A gift from the Volturi?"

He doesn't speak.

I allow my mind to travel over the events. The brute had said this man had brothers. Brothers. The golden eyes. He knows about my bracelet.

I gasp.

"Edward."

He looks surprised, but still doesn't speak.

"Did Edward send you?" I desperately want him to say yes, to show Edward cares about me, while I want it, it still makes me furious for him to have sent somebody after me.

"Kind of."

"What's that meant to mean?"

"Hey, don't take it out on me. He asked me to make sure you didn't get yourself into any trouble."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Looks like it."

"Well … you should have been doing your job."

"Now you want my help?"

"No. Did I say that?"

"Jesus. He said you were a handful, but he never said you were this bad."

"Excuse me?"

He looks at me as though just remembering I'm there.

"Look, I need to be going, can you just do me a favour? See to your arm, stay out of trouble, and contact Edward."

"But—" I splutter.

"Don't go …" He turns, surprise looking across his face before the cold, hard ridges of it soften.

"Why shouldn't I?" His voice however, remains the same stoic, even level.

"Because … can you look at my shoulder? It really hurts, and I have, questions."

His mouth twitches into a smile as he cautiously walks over towards me.

I turn to Charlotte. "I think you should put the children in bed."

She nods and starts rounding them up, but Riley comes trotting over to me.

"Auntie Bella, I don't want you to leave me." He pouts.

"I'm not going anywhere, Riley-kins."

He smiles. "I love you, Auntie Bella. Do you want me to kiss your boo-boo better?"

"I'm okay, Riley-kins. You go run up to bed, and I'll read you a bed time story once you're tucked up tight."

He nods his head. "Auntie Bella-boo?"

"Yes, Riley?"

"I'm glad you didn't let the mean men get me." Then, he toddles of upstairs with the rest of the children.

I twist back to the big guy.

"I'm B—"

"I know."

"Oh. Edward?"

"Yeah." His mouth twitches again as he fights a smile.

"Don't you want to know my name?"

"Oh yeah. Sure."

"It's Emmett, but most people call me Em, for short."

He crouches down beside me after most of the children have left the room. "Do you want me to look at your shoulder?"

"Not particularly. I have questions."

He drops back onto his haunches. "Carlisle and Edward would never let me live it down if I didn't check your shoulder. Let me have a look and you can question me."

I glance at him warily. _Trust a vampire. _

"I'm not going to snack on your throat."

_Oh my! What if he's saying that as a decoy, to put me at ease, and when he sees my neck, he'll chow down on it, like a rabid dog. _

"Somebody has certainly done a number on you."

I frown at him, but shrug of my cardigan so he can reach my shoulder. His hands are cold, tentative and tender as he brings them to raise my arm, touch the shoulder joint and help me roll my arm. I feel comfortable, for once in my life, with a vampire. I know I wouldn't be able to fight him, not now, so even if he is lulling me into a soft sense of security, I can enjoy my final few moments.

"Does this hurt?" He presses down onto my shoulder, and I try to twist away at the sharp pain.

"I'll take that as a yes." He gives me a cheeky grin before moving my arm about again.

I sit in silence, while his hands twist, turn and rub my shoulder. "Well, I'm no doctor, but being around Carlisle enough and dabbling in different things makes me think you're shoulder should be alright. It'll probably swell a little, so ice it, but nothing has been pulled out of place."

"That's good."

"So, questions?"

"Why did Edward ask you to follow me?"

"Easy, next."

"You didn't answer."

"Fine. You won't like the answer. You're Edward's mate, he isn't about to let you meander around, unprotected."

I huff.

"Told you." He flicks my nose as he stands up and offers me his hands.

"What's the bracelet?" I take his hands and he pulls me with ease to my feet.

"Edward's going to kill me, but you deserve to know. Certain male vampires in the world gain a gift such as this when they're created from the Volturi. Do you know who the Volturi are?"

"The vampire royalty, right?"

"Yes. Well, a male vampire finds his mate, he presents the bracelet to her, and it signifies that she has been claimed. It's also a form of protection and a warning to other vampires that if anyone should touch you, not only will they face the wrath of the Cullen family and Edward, but the Volturi. This is because you are incredibly precious, and worth much more than anyone else."

"Why?"

"Now Edward would seriously castrate me if I answered that, and I'm quite fond of my balls."

"Why doesn't it come off?"

"As far as I'm aware, only Edward can take it off."

"WHAT?"

"It doesn't come off."

"So … Edward's staked his claim on me. He can't do that!"

"Of course he can, you're his mate, he's symbolising only he has the right to you."

"That's …. caveman!"

"We're vampires, Bella, we're not human."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"You shouldn't be. Edward isn't going to hurt you, ever. You're his mate, it's inbred into our brains not to hurt you."

"Sure. Well, what if I don't want to be mated?"

"You can't deny it. It's not something you can switch on and off. If you do, it'll eventually kill you!"

"Literally or metaphorically?"

He stares at me. "Don't play with it, Bella. I'm warning you! It's a serious issue. Edward's a mess, he's been living in a hovel, ran off like a bat out of hell when he came from you. I don't like seeing my brother like that, so sort it out and talk to him."

"I can't!" I wave my hand around in distress.

He reaches out and places a hand on my arm.

"Bella, I understand you're afraid, but like I said, we ain't all bad guys. Keep running from your fear and you'll be an empty shell, eaten from the inside out."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be if you can fix it. I want to get back to my life."

"I want my life too, but everything is a mess, nothing fits right, I'm a mess."

"If you're a mess think about Edward. You rejected _him._"

"I—"

"Save it. Talk to Edward!"

"But—"

"Use your fancy bracelet."

Then he was gone, just like when he'd appeared. Only the air particles remaining.

I turned to see Charlotte hovering in the doorway, looking mildly uncomfortable.

"Riley is asking for you."

I nod my head and grab my bag, feeling ten times wearier than when I came in. It was from the weight of not only the guilt of rejecting Edward, but messing up Emmett's life, and I don't even know the guy.

I trudge up the stairs to Riley's room where I slip in to find him already curled up and asleep. He has his favourite book clenched in his hands and his face mushed into his pillow.

"Awww, Riley-kins."

I sigh and quickly move to tuck him in, removing the book and I place a kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Riley-kins."

I turn and leave the room, thinking about the weight of the day. How will I ever get through to tomorrow, after today?

* * *

><p>I march down towards the corner shop, which should still be open. It stays open late and it's become my nightly haven, or maybe my nightly addiction. It's not the shop itself that is responsible for my habit, but the goods it sells. Most importantly those horrid gossip magazines that I have come to depend upon.<p>

I slip into the store easily, quietly and make my way over to the magazine section. Looking around and seeing nobody of interest, I pick up another magazine, like I have for the past few weeks. I don't look at the price or the title. I make my way over to the counter, feeling like a criminal for buying such a trashy magazine. I place it on the counter along with a chocolate bar. If I'm going to indulge, why not go the whole way?

"Three dollars."

I blindly hand over the cash and disappear before she can say anything more. With the chocolate and magazine stuffed into my bag, I make my way back to the apartment.

Tired as I was, I tried not to think about what I had to do to get to my apartment. It was only a two-minute, swift walk around the corner, but from there it would be up a few stairs to the building and then up a long set of rickety stairs to the apartment. Normally I didn't mind; I like to stay in shape, and my clumsiness prevents me from partaking in many other physical activities for fear of harming myself, so using the stairs is something I try to do whenever possible, even though my building has an elevator. Besides, if I did use the elevator, it would probably get stuck and end in me having a disastrous claustrophobic attack. That's the type of luck I have. Bad.

I shove my keys in the door and it opens easily.

"Ang?"

"In the kitchen, B." I smile, knowing I can lock up the apartment properly for the night now.

Once again, I slide across every bolt, chain and locking mechanism we have on our door before clicking my key in and twisting it round, to secure the final lock. I slump and march through the house to the kitchen. I pull out the magazine and throw it onto the table where Ang sits.

She picks it up immediately and the smile that was on her face vanishes. Her whole face pales.

"What's wrong Ang?" I frown.

"Have you looked at the cover?" She bites her lip and it agitates me, even if it's a habit I do myself. I know instantly something is wrong.

"No. Why?"

She doesn't speak, but silently turns the cover around to me. There I see the picture, like a slap across the face.

Edward's a mess, really?

I look at the picture, his arm wrapped round a beautiful, stunning, strawberry blonde. No doubt a vampire, she looks too good to not be. Maybe another movie actress?

The headline reads, _Hollywood's heartthrob, Edward Cullen and stunning seductress, Ms. Tanya Denali._

I feel my stomach roll. I'd sent him away, I'd told him I didn't want him and now he's got someone else. I feel physically sick. How could he do that so easily? It must mean our mating is weak. How else could this have happened?

_Leaving me hung up upon him for weeks._

"Who is she?" I don't recognise the name, but that doesn't mean much for me.

"Tanya Denali."

That wasn't obvious.

"Hollywood's most elite actress."

I stare in horror.

My mouth falling open a little, I feel as though somebody has just knocked the wind out of me.

I could never compete to those standards, never, ever. Not that I need to compete, as Edward and I aren't anything. Anything at all. So why is it that I still can't help but compare myself to her? Why is it that when I do, it makes me feel small and infantile? I'm a nobody, and she's everything. I could never compete.

"Bella."

Ang's voice sounds far off, far away.

"What?"

"Finally. Where did you go?"

"Nowhere."

Something inside of me clicks, so I march over to the kitchen side, pull open a draw and take the scissors and cellophane. Then I pull the magazine from Ang's hands, cut out the smug picture of Tanya and tape it up to the wall.

I march back over to the kitchen side, dragging open a drawer in my rage, and pull out the biggest, sharpest knife I can find. Turning around, I feel anger now replacing the hurt that had been bubbling up inside of me.

"Bella."

Ang's voice is riddled with panic, but I block her out. My focus on the bitch before me.

I glare at the bitch. Her golden eyes shining out and locking with my own. I wish they were red; it would make it even more satisfying to hate her.

I scream and throw the knife. It flies through the air and I feel the anger dissipate from my body. The knife lands square between her eyes .

I've never been an accurate shot, but I felt something trigger deep inside of me when I saw her picture and I knew the knife couldn't miss.

I feel my shoulders sag and I shuffle over to the chair opposite Ang. I drop down into the chair, allowing my head to drop to the table. I take a peak at Ang.

Her eyes are wide, with a mixture of emotions playing across her face, shock, fear, amusement, confusion.

"Bella! You just threw a god damn knife into a picture of Tanya Denali that you stuck to the wall. What are you thinking?" She raises her hands slightly, before letting them drop gently onto the table without making a sound.

Exasperation.

Anybody angry would bang them on the table, but it's not in Ang's nature. She wouldn't hurt a fly. She's just scared, I can see it in her eyes amongst the concern and worry about me.

"I don't know." I hear the edge of hysteria in my voice and I look up to Ang.

She rushes around to me, and drags me into the comfort of her arms.

"Bella. Bella. Bella." She shakes her head and it makes me chuckle, despite the moment.

"What's happening to me, Ang?" I cry, feeling like I no longer have control over my body. The emotions swirling inside of me, feeling entirely foreign and extremely daunting.

"Bella, I think it's the mating." Her voice is so quiet, I can't be sure that I heard her correctly.

"No." I pull back from her in horror.

"It doesn't exist. We said we wouldn't have the mating, wouldn't be together." I feel my body shake and quiver.

Her eyes are sad, almost apologetic.

"Bella, honey, you can't stop the mating just because you want to. It doesn't work like that. Edward is giving you time to readjust until you're ready."

"Until I'm ready? So he can go fuck some slut from Hollywood, and when I'm 'ready' I should welcome him back with open arms? Is that what you're saying, Angela? Because according to Emmett, he's very messed up, and he totally looks it." I growl and point to the wall.

The knife still firmly established between her eyes. The satisfaction in seeing that alone calms me down and I realise I've yelled at my best friend. One of my only friends. Angela gasps at my crudeness.

"Emmett?"

"Oh, Ang. I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening to me. Long story, just some guy Edward asked to watch over me." I drop back onto the chair again as Angela strokes my cheek with her hand. It sends soothing waves of comfort through my body.

"I think you're jealous, Bella."

Jealous? Me?

How can I be jealous when I don't even feel anything for Edward?

I sigh. It's not true, I do feel something. I felt from the very first moment I ordered him away, and it hurts. I'm stupid about how much it hurts.

I feel the draw and everything in me screams to go to him and yet my head screams to run away. Just never stop running. I can't tell what my heart wants, so it's impossible to know what to do.

I'd been stupid to think I could survive without him. Everything I read, everything I've seen and everything I know indicates mating is for life, and you can't control it, only go with it. Allow it to consume you and fill you to the brink.

I hate to give in, to follow a path set for me by somebody bigger and more powerful. I've never fit totally into my life now, I've always felt like I was wandering aimlessly. Why should it be any different with mating? Why should it be different if I stop fighting?

I don't think I can face any more hurt in my life and how can Edward not bring that?

When I met Jake and Ang, they made me feel more at home. They felt safe and friendly. Yet, I never felt like I truly fit. It's why I hate this, that I've been thrust into something. It might make me seem ungrateful, since most people would be happy to finally have a purpose, but spending so long without an idea of what was going to happen and now, having something … It scares me. So much about this scares me.

"I'm jealous."

I mutter the word, tasting the bitterness on my tongue. My eyes dart to the picture stuck to the wall and I feel the feeling, the one I'd felt before when I'd seen the picture rush through me.

I look over to Ang for my answers.

"What do I do?"

"You talk to Edward."

She says like it's the simplest thing in the world, like it's so easy. It can never be easy.

"But ... I don't know if I ... l ... like him."

She shakes her head again and laughs at me.

"Come with me, Bella." She grabs my hand without waiting for my answer. Pulling me from the kitchen and down towards my room, where she bustles in with a complete air of authority and seniority.

She shifts through all my piles of rubbish until she comes across a white, transparent, and rather large storage box, which I had stuffed beneath my bed. One that I'd believed she knew nothing about. She slides is out, winks at me, and I feel the panic in me bubble up to the surface.

"You can't hide anything from me. Especially not your — well I was going to say little but … it isn't really little, so I should say _big_box of Cullen goodies." She giggles.

"Ang!"

I feel utterly horrified as the mortification sets in. Now is one of those moments in which I wish the ground could swallow me up whole.

She pulls open the top of the lid of the box, which is half full with magazines, DVDs, the odd book and other amounts of collectible items.

She tips the box on my bed.

"So you don't know how you feel about a certain Mr. Cullen? You just like to gaze at his pictures and collect lots of things on him, like a mug?"

Angela lifts up the mug and bursts into laughter. I bring my hands to cover my face.

"I don't know why I did it. It just happened, I couldn't help myself." I protest before dropping onto the bed beside Ang and running my hand over all the objects on the bed in a rather affectionate manner.

"Does this mean we can get a TV now?" She looks at me with a hope shining clear in her eyes as she lifts up several of the DVDs.

"What?"

"Well with your addiction to a certain Mr. Cullen in addition to your science fiction collection, it might be wise to get a television for you to watch them both." She giggles.

"But you already have a TV?"

"Yeah, but we need a big one in the living room. Makes it more homely and we can have Cullen movie nights."

I roll my eyes at her antics.

"I'm not paying the cable thing."

"I'll take that as a yes, and we have one already, and I pay for that, so it's no extra cost for me."

"How stupid of me." I give her a half hearted glare.

"Indeed." She giggles and hugs me.

I feel a little more relaxed, but I turn my attention back to the pile of Edward collectibles before me.

My hand lingers on the picture of Edward, and he's standing, holding an Oscar and looking incredibly handsome in his black Tuxedo, which fits snugly against his body. It shows his defined abs through the shirt, and makes me feel all warm and flustered inside.

He's famous and stunningly gorgeous, where I am plain and simple. I'm so far from the limelight, it's unreal. I don't know how we can possibly be put together in this world.

I've either done something really good to be given this "path of destiny" or he's done something really bad to be stuck with somebody as boring as me. I almost feel sorry for him.

"Bella, he's your mate. It's obvious you miss him, and you've been a right moody cow the past few weeks since you sent him off. I think you're thinking straight now. Just do what feels right in here." She places her hand over my heart and I bring my hand to meet hers.

"Sometimes we don't always have to listen to what's in here as it blocks out what we truly want with stupid reasons." She places her other hand gently against my head and smiles.

"I don't know what it's saying, Ang and it scares me."

I let out a sob and she holds me.

"I know, Bella, but it won't be any easier unless you build up the courage to speak to him. Now, before I have to go find him and drag him here myself or fly your butt up there. Speak to him. He said you'd know how and I'm sure you do. I'll go sort out the kitchen."

She moves to get up with a shake of her head.

"Ang." I stop her with a restraining hand.

"Can you leave that photo there?"

She turns to me and raises and eyebrow.

"It makes me feel better to see her face with the umm ... knife in." I mutter.

"Oh, Bella. Of course, but it's coming down eventually. I don't like having knives in my walls." She laughs and I drop her hand.

I watch her as she makes her way out of her room, smiling and making gestures for me to pull my act together and try to contact Edward.

I nod once and watch as she gently pulls shut the door behind her.

I sigh. The paranormal is never easy and neither is life.

I look down at the bracelet attached to my wrist and suddenly I feel very, very stupid.

"Well, here goes nothing."

I bring my wrist up to eye level and stare at the bracelet.

"Edward." I feel like a total idiot as I whisper to the bracelet.

"Edward, can you hear me?" I say it again.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I drop my wrist feeling slightly defeated but my stomach twinges, making me think to try one last time.

I shouldn't give in so easily.

"Edward—"_god this is stupid_"—but if you can hear me, Edward, well, umm ... I think umm ... we might need to talk as I've been a little hasty. I know you have your movie, and you're probably all loved up with T-Tanya, but I ... we need to talk. If you somehow, actually get this message as I'm sitting here, feeling like an idiot, talking to my bracelet, well, I guess something in me kind of maybe, could have missed you and actually wants to see you. So if you do hear this, can you call me, I can give you my number." I say and reel it off. "Well I guess that was wise, giving you my number, but well, yeah, I don't know what to say. Angela put me up to this, so if you get this call me, drop by, anytime."

I finish off my little message, staring at the bracelet and feeling like an utter idiot. It doesn't make a sound. Doesn't glow like something magical or produce a hologram of Edward in the air or even talk back to me.

I flop back onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted after fighting for my life, finding out I have a "protector", throwing a knife at a photo of an utter bitch who I don't even know — she's just trying to steal my man. And then realising I'm an utter idiot for sending Edward away. Then I have to comprehend all over again that I'm an utter idiot for talking to a bracelet. It's just a bracelet.

A vampire may have given me that bracelet and Emmett did say use the bracelet, or at least I think he did. Although I could have been so much in shock that I imagined the whole thing. I groan as I clutch the bed covers in my hands.

I guess I've read too many books and seen too many science-fiction films to actually understand what is real and what's not in the realms of the universe and talking bracelets don't really seem to fit into a realm. After all, we can only have so much supernatural, scary stuff in the world, and I think vampires cover that completely. I mean, we still haven't invented time travel, or managed to move further than the moon in space travel so, talking bracelets do not really seem achievable.

I stare for a few more minutes at the bracelet and feel nothing "special" happen.

Perhaps the vampires make special voodoo bracelets. Who am I kidding?

I've finally cracked. I let out a rather hysterical laugh and sit up, rubbing my face in frustration.

"God, what were you hoping for, a magic bracelet to talk to Edward like a mobile phone? Such a simple modern way of communicating. What idiot decided that we couldn't share mobile numbers?" I grumble.

Then I realise that idiot was most likely me, as I kicked Edward out. Told him I never wanted to see him again and basically said I didn't need him and here I am, moping around after the same guy, I so carelessly threw away.

He's with Tanya now, it's not like he needs me.

I kick at the shelf before me and grumble a few profanities after stubbing my toe. It hurts so bad when that happens, especially since I caught my toe on the edge so that it split the other way from all the other toes and makes that horrible crunching sound as if I've pulled it from a socket.

I stand up and moan, hopping slightly on the one foot in pain.

I hobble into the living room to see Ang crashed on the couch with one of her trashy magazines. The thought alone makes me chuckle as I look back at _my_bed, still covered in trashy magazines.

I guess some of us just have unfulfilled urges and mine come in the form of Edward Cullen.

But one has to admit, he is entirely gorgeous. Some might say _sex on legs. _

I freeze mid-step. I just called Edward "sex on legs". Never before have I labelled a guy "sex on legs". Admittedly, my sexual history isn't anything to shout about. It amounted to a horrible fumble after prom with Mike Newton, which really left me worse for wear in many ways.

I shudder at the thought.

I think the local nun gets more action than me, which is highly horrifying.

"Alright, Bella?"

Ang frowns at me and I realise I'm still stood in the middle of the living room.

"Yeah, fine." I mutter, hobbling to the other sofa which Sam is sprawled across. I feel utterly depressed. My attempts to contact "sex on legs" have failed miserably and I've realised I have an utterly sad life, with no exciting sex to talk about – not that this entirely bothers me.

It makes me wonder if I secretly stack up on steamy romance novels for a reason. I think I'd be horrified if somebody ever found me reading one of those, especially when they make me "excited". Is that the word?

"Bella, stop thinking so hard."

Angela frowns at me.

"What?"

"You'll get grey hairs and frown lines from pinching your face up like that."

I sigh and relax against the couch, although not for long. Maybe twenty minutes later, when I'm just floating between dream and reality state, there is a harsh, loud hammering on our door.

The viciousness in which the door is being hit makes me yelp and jump up in the chair out of fright. It's not too late in the evening, but neither me nor Ang has anybody to speak of who would call at this hour.

"Ang." I look to her from my helpless position on the couch that I've assumed, Sam cuddling into my side.

"Got it," she yells. She rushes through the living room, and I'm glad she has, since I don't think I could truly make it that far.

She gets to the door and begins sliding off all the locks without even looking in the peep hole. Is she stupid? Does she have a death wish.

She swings open the door with a smile on her face, which quickly slides.

"Oh, my!" I wonder who could be at the door. Surely not … it couldn't be.

I see something move and she steps back. Her face pale and her mouth frozen agape. That really can't be good. I watch as two figures walk through the door, both faces strained with anger and something else that I can't quite read.

I clutch at Sam, feeling my heart stutter in my chest ...

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Twilight, nor it's characters.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, **Her Mighty Ubergeekness.**

Follow me on **Twitter**, under **NerdettteLove. **I have a banner link on my profile.

**Update Schedule**: **2 - 4 Weeks**. These are long chapters so it takes me longer to write them, and then have them beta'd!

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**Nerdette! x**

**Story recs:**

Substance by Aurora18 (Edward/Bella)

Craving an ordinary life by busybee37 (Edward/Bella)

You're a Cullen Now by Jasper's Woman (Bella/Jasper)

Letting Go of Maybe by Weebble (Bella/Emmett)


	6. Broken Toes

**Title update: Fatum Lamarium into Fatum Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**  
>~Warzone by The Wanted~<br>~My Only One by All Time Low~  
>~Somewhere Else by Razorlight~<p>

**~Chapter Five~**

.Broken Toes.

_**BPOV**_

I always thought broken relationships, miscommunications, any other problems could be fixed easily, whether by an apology or a gift. I guess this sentiment showed my innocent naivety. Some things might be fixed with an apology, but sometimes things require far more than that. Like when one severs a bond that has been created — how does one fix that? I've done this to Edward; how could an apology suffice? I am the one person designed to love him, but I've hurt him with my rejection.

I'm not saying that I want to go and jump into his arms, but I want to at least try and start building a relationship of some sort. I've made so many mistakes in my life: lying to people, betraying people, and hurting people. I don't want to keep doing that forever.

I don't expect a warm welcome from him, and in some part of my mind, I don't want one because I don't deserve one. I just want somewhere to start. If we can talk and become friends, that might be nice. I know he's seeing that _whore, _Tanya, but I have to mean something to him, right?

I know Angela has been concerned about me, she's been urging me to get in touch with him ever since he left. She's told me over and over again, "the truth is always best". If I tell him the truth though, I'm scared he'll never want me. Even if I don't want him, I'm not sure rejection is something I want to face. I feel bad knowing I couldn't put myself through the same pain, that I subjected Edward too, but I can't face it.

Am I strong enough to relive all my past? Strong enough to survive that possible pain again? I can't say, but I know I'm tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of building up so many defences that I don't let anybody in.

It doesn't mean I have to like Edward, but it does mean I have to face him.

Sam shifts on my lap and growls. This brings me back to the present, and to my surroundings on the couch, in the apartment's living room. My gaze is firmly resting on the two figures before me, while I try to actually compute if they're real. I clutch Sam closer to me, trying to calm my frantic, beating heart.

Edward. It's Edward. My walking "sex on legs".

He's wearing a pair of dark jeans that hang low on his waist and cling to his legs. A black t-shirt defines his abs under a leather jacket that I could tell was carelessly slung on top. He looks downright perfect with his sex-ruffled hair and intense stare. I feel my stomach roll in protest at the thought of Edward having sex. It couldn't be with Tanya. He wouldn't come to me from Tanya would he?

Before I can work myself into a state of hysteria, I see he's not alone. There, next to him, is Jacob Black, my only other friend beside Angela.

I switch my gaze from Jacob to Edward, noticing the strained lines on Edward's face, and the harsh edge of his mouth. He hand is clasped around Jacob's upper arm, and from the look on Jacob's face, I'd guess it is a fairly tight grip.

I gulp.

Jacob looks far from impressed. Although I'm sure he can take care of himself. I mean he's huge, like, really huge, but then when you put him up against a vampire, those odds seem to disappear. Edward might be several inches shorter, but Edward's insanely strong.

My thoughts drift to the look on Edward's face when we'd been discussing Sam and he'd gone crazy with jealously since he thought he was another man. Vampires are possessive creatures, so it was just my luck that Edward would find a guy at my door just when I'd asked him back.

When he found out that Sam is a dog, we were able to laugh the whole thing off. Jacob, however, is real flesh and blood, so this is no joking matter. I feel genuinely worried for Jacob. It's not that Edward will do anything to me — despite all my fears and worries, I know the person I'm probably safest in the world with is Edward because of this mating phenomenon. However, this doesn't extend to Jacob, even if he is my friend. I have no qualms that Edward would kill Jacob if he deemed him a real threat.

My eyes linger again on Edward — his eyes are black and filled with controlled rage, his body is taunt, like that of a predator waiting to pounce, and he doesn't move a single inch. I drag my eyes from him to look once again upon Jacob, and he seems perfectly calm to an outsider, but I know him. I can see the pain concealed beneath the surface of those fathomless brown eyes that are filled with love and comfort despite his situation, as well as a underlying concern. He's the friend that I've always looked to because he's provided everything I've ever needed, and the concern just shows me that. Now, he's the one who needs me.

I bring my eyes to Edward's grip on his arm. It isn't a friendly gesture, or hold, it's a bone crushing torture regime.

"E-E-Edward."

I slacken my grip on Sam, and as if he can sense the high running tensions in the room, he jumps from the couch and rushes into the kitchen. _So much for faithful friends; he's deserted me at the first hurdle. _I stand from the couch on shaky legs, careful not to nudge my toe — still sore from it's earlier mistreatment. I debate whether to move over to Edward and Jacob, settling on a shuffle towards them.

Only moments before, I'd been sending prayers and begging almost for Edward to arrive, because I felt like my heart had been ripped from me. Now, I'm not so sure that I want him here, or at least in this situation. The pain hasn't been relieved. There is still a searing hole in me, and he still seems so far away.

His gaze is burning bright, far beyond just anger, it's bordering fury. He doesn't speak, just allows his gaze to scorch my skin.

"J-Jacob."

I wave my hand a little in greeting, and he smiles grimly.

"Hey, Bells."

I can detect the strain in his voice, and I look back to Edward. I can't allow another vampire to enter my life and start hurting the people I love ... again. I did that once, but I'm different now. I might be willing to give things a go with Edward, but he will not lay a finger on the people I care about.

It takes every ounce of my courage to pull myself up tall and turn to Edward.

"Let go of Jacob. You're hurting him." I wave my hand to his grip on Jacob's arm.

He merely looks down in disdain before turning back to me. He still doesn't speak, and it makes me uncomfortable while my frustration starts to rise. I shift my weight from side to side — carefully avoiding my big toe.

"It's okay, Bells. I'm fine."

"Don't speak to her."

_Finally, he speaks!_Although now I wish he hadn't. Anger bubbles up inside of me.

"Don't you dare tell him not to speak to me!"

I point an accusatory finger at Edward and hobble towards him. He looks rather shocked at my outcry because his nostrils flare and his eyes go wide.

"Now let go of Jacob, he's done nothing wrong!" I let out a frustrated growl when his grip only tightens and I see Jacob flinch.

"Edward, what's wrong with you? You're hurting him!" I'm verging on sobbing at this point when I look at Jacob. I try to apologise with my eyes. I peek at Angela for help, only to see her rooted to the spot, the door still in her hand.

_I'm obviously not going to get any help there!_

Edward's eyes change, slipping from the dark obsidian to a nearly golden colour. His grip looks as if it has slackened, but I couldn't be sure. I sigh in relief and shuffle over to Jacob. I'm still acutely aware of my throbbing toe — I hope to god I haven't broken it.

I bring my hand to Jacob and pat his hand gently.

"Jacob, are you okay? I'm sorry — this is my fault."

He draws me into a big, bone-crushing hug.

"Can't breathe."

He chuckles before setting me down, and I feel some of the tension seep from my body.

"I'm fine, Bells. Stop worrying. I can take care of myself." He shoots a death glare over his shoulder to Edward, who is frowning as he watches us interact.

I can feel the waves of unhappiness rolling of him. He actually looks like he wants to disembowel Jacob right now, which makes me distinctly uncomfortable. I pull back from Jacob completely, hoping this might stop Edward from killing him right this moment. We need to talk first, then he can attempt to kill Jacob. I say attempt because I will never allow him to kill my friend, he's done too much for me.

"Ang, shut the door."

Edward looks a little more relaxed when I take a step towards him.

"Edward."

I'm glad to be able to say his name stutter-free this time. After all this time he's been gone, I feel the need to see if he's real. To actually touch him. It sounds so stupid, especially to feel relieved that he's back when I barely know the man — all I know is that he's the acclaimed Edward Cullen. My current attraction is all physical but despite that, I want to know him emotionally, too.

The constricting of my chest has been growing ever tighter since he left, but as I drag myself closer, it eases somewhat. I feel almost at peace. It's like my body recognizes the return of Edward.

I don't move to touch him yet. I want to hold off for a moment.

His eyes lock with mine, and subconsciously my body propels me even closer to him. I manage to stop myself just before I reach out to touch him, to press my body up against his. I'm not sure of the correct etiquette to use went trying to reconcile with the mate you sent away because you didn't want him.

"Bella, who is this man?" The words are cold and clinical when they come from Edward's lips. Not like the musical tones I was used to when he spoke to me, not that I could remember them so well. I know, though, that they were nothing like this.

I admit I wasn't looking for a proclamation of love when he came back, but something with a little sentiment or emotion may have been nice for his first words to me, be in order to ease thing between us and maybe give the hint that he didn't totally hate me. I guess that was too much to ask; I hadn't lost all of my naïve hopes after all.

I guess I do owe him an explanation of who Jacob is. After all, when I read up on the internet about vampire mating, it did say that male vampires were especially protective of their females around other un-mated males, and that some didn't even like their mates to be in the company of males. It also said physical contact between a mate and a male could ensure a fight because the males scent would be all over the female, and the only scent a female should smell of is her mate.

Oh, gosh! I'd been hugging Jacob, and it said newly mated vampires were the worst kinds of possessive.

"Um ... Jacob … is my friend." I look down at the floor feeling uncomfortable.

"Why should she have to explain who I am? The question is who the hell are you?"

I can hear the anger in Jacob's voice, and his need to protect me, too. It tugs at the strings on my heart, but he's going to wind up in hospital if he infuriates Edward.

"Jacob."

He glowers at my protest.

"Don't look at her like that." Edward steps forward, puffing out his chest, and throwing his head back slightly. I notice how his movement places me behind him. I feel angry that he thinks he needs to protect me from Jacob, but at the same time, a part of my brain that I've long been trying to suppress shouts out how cute it is. Cute? I didn't even know that word was in my vocabulary. Maybe sweet would be the better term?

Edward looks like an animal getting ready to defend his mate and territory. A caged animal that's just been set loose.

"I am Isabella's mate, and I have every right to be here, especially when she called for me."

I whip my head up then to look at him. _He heard me? _

"You're her mate? Why haven't I heard about this? _Bella _would have told me that she'd acquired a _mate, _especially when it's one of you."

I shake my head in warning, but he doesn't seem to listen.

"She doesn't need one of you in her life, you've done enough damage!" Jacob takes on a threatening aura.

"Jacob, it doesn't matter. Edward isn't like them."

I surprise myself by springing to Edward's defence, but I can't allow Jacob to persecute Edward like I'd done; he shouldn't be punished so unnecessarily.

Jacob spins around to look at me, his beautiful face livid with anger.

"How do you know, Bella? They're all the same! You can't trust him. Don't let him get into your mind and delude you. Don't let him break you, Bells."

"I can't actually get into her mind." Edward raises his eyebrows, looking rather smug, if a little annoyed, while still managing to look angry but unruffled. While I, on the other hand feel thoroughly confused, and feel like I'm watching tennis as my head swings back and forth between Edward and Jake.

"Oh, well, that's perfectly acceptable then." Jacob glares.

"Jacob, I know it's scary, and I'm scared, but I tried to be without him, I did. I still don't want this, but it hurts, Jacob. In here in hurts to be without him." I point at my chest, and clutch my arms around myself.

In that moment, Edward's eyes soften and he rushes over towards me before I can even stop him. His arms reach out and crush me into his cold, hard embrace, where he cradles me against his chest. His arms are strong and secure around me, and they make me feel safe and whole for the first time in my life. Here in his arms it feels like nothing can touch me; none of the hurt, pain and anger in the world can reach me while I'm here. Even Jacob could never make me feel like this. It might be irrational, but I can deny my feelings.

"I'm sorry, Bella. If I'd have known, I would have been back sooner. I just wanted you to call for me." Edward strokes my hair in a gentle caress.

I look over to Jacob whose eyes are narrowed and cold as he flicks them between Edward and me.

"We need to talk, Edward." I bring my eyes up to look at Edward while I'm still entrapped in his steely embrace. I try to wriggle out, but he just grips his arms tighter around me when he nods in agreement.

I want to break free from him now. The moment was nice, but we need to talk about everything, especially _Tanya. _

"We do, but first, we need to get rid of this mutt." Edward looks down his nose at Jacob. "You can't see him again, Bella. I should be the only male in your life!"

I try to pull away again, squirming even more under his prison bar arms.

"You can't do that!" I tilt my head back so I can look into his eyes and express my anger. "Jacob's my friend, my best friend. I've known him since I was a child. Our relationship is platonic, so don't go spewing around all this 'I should be the only male in your life'. You can't control me, and you have no right to!"

He leans his head down, so he's towering over me, and forcing me to bend backwards and submit to him. It's something that makes my hackles rise. His eyes tell me his is livid. He looks scary and powerful from this position.

"This is not up for discussion, Isabella. I have every right to control your life because I am your mate! I decide what's best for you, and you are sorely mistaken when you say your relationship is platonic. Jacob is infatuated with you." He turns his head to glare at Jacob while dragging me even closer, so my forehead bumps against his own.

"Edward." I bring my hands up to his chest in a meek attempt at resistance, but he's so strong, I can't fight him.

He doesn't turn back to me, even while holding me up. I huff.

"This is very much up for discussion, Edward! Don't call me Isabella! So if I can't have any male friends, does that mean you can't have any female ones? Because it's hardly fair!"

I try to pull away. He brings me to stand on my feet.

His brows furrow. "I don't have any female friends."

I almost choke on air in surprise. I look to Angela who is hedging towards me in warning to try and stop me, but it's too late.

I pull away from Edward when his grip slackens and I march into the kitchen. Edward, Jacob and Ang are all swiftly following. I try to ignore the throbbing of my toe as I hop, stumble and skip into the kitchen.

I rip the picture of Tanya from the wall and hold it up for all to see. "Who the hell do you call this?" My anger has risen beyond a point where I would feel bad for cursing. "You were looking pretty cosy with her on the front of _Hello_." I fling the magazine from the sideboard at him.

He looks stunned for a moment because his brows rise up to the middle of his forehead while he thumbs through the magazine.

"I call this press coverage and media propaganda."

My jaw falls slack. He just spewed that pathetic little excuse of a reason on me? Really!

"You've been caught canoodling with another woman and you call it media propaganda. Yet, my best friend comes around to see about _my_welfare, and you try to kick him out at the first moment."

"I think canoodling is a little extreme, Isabella. It's just a photo."

Jacob looks unimpressed, and his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

"I'm glad somebody is finding this amusing." I turn my fierce glare on him, and he holds up his hands in defence, grinning. He cracks up when I narrow my eyes and begins to laugh outright.

"Who threw the knife?" Jacob raises his eyebrows, with a cheeky grin.

"Well you don't think it was me, do you?" Angela pipes up.

"Bitch deserved a knife between her eyes; I just wish I could do it for real. Then Edward wouldn't want his little 'love affair'." I mimic the article in disgust.

"Bella!" Ang admonishes me for my language, and I feel my cheeks heat up in a flush due to my behaviour.

"I—" I find myself at a loss for words. Then I remember Edward's words. I spin around only to catch my toe and again, and I gasp in pain.

"Isabella?"

"Shush. I have words to speak!"

"But you're hurt."

"It's a stubbed toe. I want to speak." I grit my teeth to bare the pain before holding myself up against the counter.

"You think canoodling is a little extreme, do you, Edward? Yet, in that article it clearly states you're having a love affair. Doesn't sound very extreme to me." I fold my arms across my chest, feeling calmer and saner. I know I need to have an adult conversation with this man before me, otherwise he'll only serve to infuriate me more.

"I'm not having a love affair. My sister forced me into a night out, saying I needed the publicity and that if I didn't go, everything in my life would fail. It's always easier to just go along with it."

I continued to stare him down, unimpressed.

"Have you thought to how that would make me feel, rushing off with another woman not three weeks after you declared you were my mate, and after all for your big declarations of mutual affection." My lips twist into a grimace at the words "mutual affection". I could hardly say love, could I?

"You sent me away!"

"So?"

"Isabella, I think you're taking things a little far. You put yourself in danger. Did you consider the consequences for you, or Angela when you threw that knife?"

I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger to stop me.

"I don't think you did, and that is certainly not acceptable."

I find myself blushing again when he admonishes me like a naughty child. Next thing, he'll be spanking my butt and sending me off to bed without food. I let out a gasp of surprise due to the direction of my thoughts and the insane, dirty, irrational images that seem to run through it when I think of Edward spanking me. My body responds to the idea immediately, and I try to clamp down on my response, not wanting to even think about the direction my mind was taking my body.

"Isabella?"

I blink, looking up to find Edward closer to me and looking at me with a mixture of worry, and something I can't quite put my finger on.

"Ah …"

"I'm going to remove the knife from the wall so nobody else gets hurt. If I ever find you've been throwing them again, I'm not afraid to doll out punishment."

"Punishment?" I squeak.

"Yes, punishment, Isabella."

"What kind of punishment?"

"Oh, I think you know what type." Then he winks, a smirk playing on his lips.

I just gawp — extremely unattractively — while Edward pulls the knife from the wall and slides it away somewhere, out of sight. He also makes the picture of Tanya, and the trashy magazine disappear. I'm not too bothered about the magazine now I have my Edward back. I don't pause on that thought, not wanting to analyse the "my". It would have been nice to keep the picture of Tanya to use as a target on my darts board — when I buy one.

Edward gently walks over towards me and lifts me up easily, before pushing me back to sit on the sideboard. He picks up my sore foot and inspects my toe.

"Looks broken. We'll have to take you to the hospital."

I try to pull my foot from his grip, but he just drags it closer, and this makes my butt slide closer to the edge of the counter. I stop fidgeting. I know he wouldn't let me fall, but I still don't like sitting next to the edge.

"We haven't finished our conversation from earlier."

"And what was that?"

"About Jacob."

"That mutt."

"Why are you calling him a mutt?"

He seems to freeze in his inspection of my toe before quirking his head to the side and straightening up. He gently lowers my leg back against the cabinet door but places his hands on my legs, preventing me from moving.

"I believe that is a matter for Jacob and you to discuss. I hate having to keep things from you, Isabella ..." Edward brings his hand to caress my cheek, his eyes golden and glowing. "... but I believe this is a matter for Jacob and you to talk about. He has to tell you."

"Tell me what? Has this got something to do with you preventing me from seeing him?" I turn on Jacob, who's looking extremely uncomfortable. He'd been forgotten moments ago, and he'd been able to revel in his amusement, but now all eyes were upon him.

"I … We'll talk about it later, Bells. Now isn't the right time, with _him _around."

"You promise?"

"Don't I always?"

I nod my head.

"Are you sure you're okay, Bells? He's not … hurting you or anything? Not like _him_, right?" Jacob's eyes look tortured when he glances between us both. Edward lets out a growl in warning at Jacob's suggestion.

"I'm fine. Edward's …" I search for a word that I can use to describe him. Coming up with nothing suitable, I settle for. "... good."

"Okay. I'll guess I'll be going, it looks like you guys have things to talk about."

"Don't go, Jake."

"I think it's for the best."

"Why? You haven't done anything wrong. Edward doesn't mean what he says. I've told him, and you, he's not the boss."

Edward grumbles and drags my body closer to him.

"It's for the best, Bells. Call me soon, and we'll talk. I promise." He hesistates for a moment, before deciding to come over despite Edward. He eyes him warily when he leans over and presses his lips to my forehead in a gentle, friendly kiss.

"Be safe, Jakey."

"Sure, sure."

Then he's gone, like he was never even here. Angela follows him out, leaving Edward and me alone in the kitchen.

"Well that wasn't … odd or anything." I drop my head to rest against Edward's chest, feeling extremely exhausted.

He shifts and pulls me closer, so I'm forced to spread my legs to accommodate him.

"We still need to go get your toe checked out."

I pout like a whiny child. "But I don't want to, Edward."

"It looks painful."

"It's fine."

"Really?" Edward picks my leg up and brushes his thumb across the top, the coolness is soothing, but the slight pressure makes me gasp in pain.

I feel tears well in my eyes when the bone moves again.

"Oh, Bella." Edward pulls me closer and hums to me in a soothing manner.

"Still think you don't need to get it checked out?"

I shake my head in denial against Edward.

"We need to talk, though."

"If your toe swells up any more, or goes any more purple, I'm afraid it will drop off."

"Don't be stupid."

"My father's a doctor, I know what I'm talking about."

"It won't drop off." I bring my elbow to jab him in the stomach, but find myself in more pain than when I started with due to his steely abs.

"Maybe not, but I'll still feel better having it checked out." I pull away to find him grinning.

"Okay, but that doesn't mean we're not going to talk."

"Never thought it would. My first priority however, is your health."

He scoops me up into his arms, and drags me against his cool chest.

"I'm not an invalid, Edward. I can walk."

He merely smirks; it seems my complaint has fallen on deaf ears.

"Edward, put me down!"

"You shouldn't be placing weight on your toe, it's already swollen, and more pressure will serve to inflame it."

"Hardly." I just glare and fold my arms, while I continue to pout.

I find it humiliating enough to be carried through my own apartment, so I just hope I will be allowed to walk on my own two — working — legs into the actual hospital. I can imagine the looks I shall receive, and since I have to go there on a regular basis due to my inability to walk without falling, it would be rather awkward, since I know the majority of the staff.

Edward picks up my coat from the hall and drapes it over me before entering the living room where Ang is lounging on the sofa. She raises her eyebrows as she sees us enter, and before she can speak, Edward interrupts.

"Angela, I'm taking Isabella to the hospital because she has fractured her toe and it requires medical attention."

"You don't know that!" I protest.

He looks down his nose at me, and the glance he shares with me brooks no arguments when he plays the "I am superior to all" act.

"Won't somebody recognise you, Edward?"

"Oh shit." He frowns, seemingly having forgot that he's a famous movie star in the moment. How, I couldn't say.

"I have my hoodie, Ray-Bans and baseball cap in the car, so I should be okay. Anyway, they'll be paying more attention to the little one in my arms, not me." He grins cheekily while squeezing me gently.

_Little one? _

"You know, I'm starting to wish you'd never came back."

Hurt flashes across his face at my words, and I instantly feel regret, but not enough to apologise.

"I'll see you when you get back then, guys. Behave, Bella!" Ang waves over her head while Edward carts me from the apartment.

I refuse to speak throughout the journey down the stairs, which is oddly comfortable because I don't get jostled once in Edward's firm grip. However, it gives me too much time to contemplate the idea of being mobbed by Edward groupies. Not my ideal night out.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Edward?"

"What's wrong?"

"Not a thing."

"Don't lie."

"It's nothing."

"Clearly you're getting that cute little furrow in your brow because you're thinking too hard. Now tell me."

"Are you always this demanding?"

"Yes. Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm just worried about getting mobbed by all your groupies."

He laughs. He actually laughs at me, making his chest vibrate, which makes me vibrate in turn.

"You'll be fine. I promise you, nobody will notice."

I huff and turn away from him, but he stops on the stairs and brings his nose to nudge my cheek. I freeze, the closeness of his body to mine makes me highly aware of my vulnerable position. I feel extremely uncomfortable, and he seems to notice this before he pulls away.

We reach his vehicle, which is a sleek, black car — I think it's a BMW — that screams power and money. I've never really been an expert on cars since I have my own, rather clunky, truck, but this car looks good with the moonlight reflecting of its shiny surface, and its stretched hood, and tinted windows. This is an all man car.

The stars are twinkling in the sky, and I revel in the utter expanse of the universe and the realms in which we are yet to discover new treasures and possible species. I love the night, the thrill of the darkness, and the edge to what could be around the next corner. One of the reasons why I've never had any self-preservation is probably because I've never learnt to fear the things I should.

Edward unlocks the car and helps me in, even reaching to slide my seat-belt into place.

"Just get into the car; I can click a buckle into place!"

He smirks but acquiesces to my request and slams the door. Before he's sliding into his own side extremely gracefully. How I hate these speedy vampires.

* * *

><p>The drive to the hospital is fairly quiet; Edward doesn't attempt to make conversation, and neither do I, despite our need to talk. I think that for the moment we need to experience and settle in.<p>

I watch while his his hands clench the wheel, his knuckles nearly turning white as we drive through the city's streets to the hospital.

The car headlights illuminate the way as we fly through the streets at a blinding speed. He handles the car with an ease that makes me feel safe, and shows he's confident with driving. Not that I wouldn't expect somebody like Edward not to be able to drive. I just expect a big film star with unlimited funding to have a personal driver to ferry themselves about. After all, where is the need to do something yourself when you can pay somebody to do it for you?

Just before we reach the hospital, I decide to voice my query.

"Don't you have somebody to drive you about?"

His face, which was set on the road and completely stony, turns to me. His eyes are golden and curious as a small smile plays on his lips.

"A chauffeur?"

I nod my head.

"I have several, actually, but I like to drive myself around from time to time, and when it concerns you, I prefer to be driving. And when you've been around a while, you get tired of being waited on hand and foot."

I want to argue that he barely knows me, but as we near the hospital, I realise we have no time for that conversation unless I want to walk into the hospital arguing with him. That would only draw more attention to us, since I'm not allowed to be able to walk.

He pulls the car into one of the available parking slots with an ease, shutting off the engine.

"Wait here."

The deadly tone, and burning gaze root me to my seat without further thought because I know I really don't want to be on the end of one of Edward's rants.

He shoots round the car with a blinding speed, so fast I can't even see him until he's pulling open my door. He's also happens to have shrugged into his hoodie — under his leather jacket — and placed on his Ray-Bans and cap the cap that hides his face from me. The swiftness with which he gets everything done is hard to keep up with after not spending much time around vampires. It's rather hard to adjust.

He unclicks my seatbelt before I can react, and pulls me from the car and places me over his shoulder, in a fireman's lift. I let out a little groan, and squirm away until he presses one hand to my butt.

"Edward."

"Yes, Isabella?"

"Hand."

He drops me and I let out a scream of fright until I'm caught safely in a cradle like hold.

"That wasn't very nice."

"But it was fun."

"Edward."

I resort to whining like a child, to both gain his attention, and to try and remove that smirk from his face.

"I didn't realise I had a child in my arms, Isabella."

"You're the one treating me like a child."

"So that means you resort to behaving like one, too?"

"No, it's just ..."

"Good, lets go get your toe checked out, and then we can get home to talk." He seems excited by the prospect, which isn't encouraging.

"Stupid, think they know-it-all vampires."

Edward bends down so his lips brush against my ear, his cool breath making me shiver.

"I can hear you muttering, little one. So if you want to keep things private, I suggest you keep them in your pretty little head." He nips my ear, and I hold still, not even daring to breath.

My head? Does that mean he can read thoughts, or that he can't?

"Calm it, Isabella. You're overreacting."

I remain silent while I get carried into the hospital, and baring the embarrassment of the onlookers and curious staff who gaze at Edward with an appreciative eye, because even wrapped up, he looks good.

The hospital is inundated at this time of night due to certain species' nightly activities — or failed attempts at such activities. I see people with bandages wrapped around their most prominent veins. I suppose it's better than having a major artery attacked. If one of those got bitten, they'd be dead pretty soon due to the high blood pressure. Some might say we humans don't treat out meat differently, but we don't watch our meat walk around bandaged up after we've snacked on it! The thought leaves me feeling physically sick.

There seems to be two distinctive vampire groups. There were animal munchers, and there were neck munchers, as I like to call them, but they both equate to the same thing; vampires.

Edward places me down on a chair and stalks off to find a member of staff; he's probably trying to get me pushed up the list. I'm sure all he'd have to do is flash the fangs or whip of his sunglasses; that's how most things work around here. If you're a vampire of a celebrity, you get bumped up in the list for everything. It was the pecking order, or the "chain of being" as some people call it. I preferred to think of it as what it was: intimidation and favouritism.

He's back within moments, followed by a doctor whose white coat is flaps as she rushes along behind Edward's long strides.

"This is Dr. Madison." Edward steps aside so I can see the fairly short, curvy lady with a wild mane of golden curls who I've seen so many times before.

"Bella, nice to see you again. What is it this time?" She chuckles, and Edward looks a little shocked to realise we've met.

"My toe, I think it's broken. I would have just left it, but he overreacted." I point to Edward, who is frowning. Before he can speak, Dr. Madison cuts him off.

"Well, Bella, I'll fix it up. We might have to realign it, so he did the right thing in bringing you in. I don't believe I've been acquainted with this dashing young man before." She grins and winks at me.

I roll my eyes, and move to stand up when she heads towards her office, but again, I find my feet incapable of moving when I'm swept off them.

"How many times have you been to this hospital, Isabella?"

I shift my gaze to anywhere but Edward.

"Just a couple."

"Don't lie, Isabella, you seem rather well _acquainted_with Dr. Madison." He chooses her wording to remind me of what she'd said.

"Okay, a lot. I'm just a little accident prone. Nothing serious, and Dr. Madison is usually the one who sees me. We get on well and she takes an interest in my life. We've been out a few times outside of her work hours to socialize, so we know each other fairly well. And please, call me Bella!"

Edward chuckles. "She's wondering how you got lucky with me; her thoughts are rather entertaining. They all centre around me, but she seems genuinely happy for you, even if wary of what my intentions are."

I look up at him appalled. "You're reading her mind?"

"She's projecting her thoughts."

His nonchalance angers me, but I don't have time to think because we enter Dr. Madison's office and he places me on the bed.

She turns to me with a big smile on her face after she shoots not-so subtle glances at Edward, who is grinning like a Cheshire cat. This is going to be one tedious appointment.

* * *

><p>Surprisingly a rather painless thirty minutes in Dr. Madison's office, I find out that my toe is indeed broken, and I have to have it strapped up. I consider myself lucky I don't have to have it realigned. Upon leaving, Dr. Madison gives me a crutch — at my request — so I can walk without resting weight on my toe, and walk without Edward's help. He'd glared at the crutch when she brought it in, like it had taken away his new favourite toy — probably me — but otherwise remained cheerful. It made me, however, feel better to have the independence gained from the crutch. After all, she made it clear that such independence was the only reason I'd need one, because I don't "technically" need it for a broken toe.<p>

After waving goodbye and promising to meet up sometime soon for drinks, I hop out of the hospital with the aid of my crutch and the extremely annoying Edward who hovers over me every step of the way. This certainly makes it a long walk.

When I finally get into car and buckle up, Edward decides he's in the mood for talking.

"Why did you call?" Edward's eyes remain fixed ahead whilst he pushes the car to nearly ninety miles per hour. The passing landscape is a blur; we speed through the outskirts of the city, not heading in any general direction, just driving.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I'm confused. It hurts, Edward, inside, and I can't think straight. I threw a knife at the picture of Tanya Denali. I would never have done that before!" I slump further into my seat as Edward's eyes flicker to me, a smile playing on his lips.

"I think that's jealously, Bella."

"How can I be jealous if I don't want this?"

"Bella, I don't think it's about wanting this anymore, it's about needing it. Physically it's impossible to be away from your mate for extended periods of time. The need to mate becomes stronger after spending more and more time together, it's something you can't fight."

The need to mate? I feel my gut clench and roll.

"What do we do then?" I feel utterly lost. He's right, I need him for some bizarre reason and I know I can't ignore it.

"I guess we try to make it work. Would you like to go on a date with me, dearest Bella?"

Edward turns to me, his eyes sparkling — his Ray-Bans no longer hiding them — and a dashing smile, which unfortunately flashes his fangs notwithstanding, he looks stunning.

"Okay." I guess that means I need to go clothes shopping. I have nothing to wear for a date, never mind a date with Edward Cullen.

"Great."

"When is this date?"

"Is tomorrow night okay?"

He turned his gaze — thankfully — back to the road.

"Um … sure."

"Seven pm?"

"Okay."

"I'll pick you up outside your apartment."

I nod my head, wanting to stop myself from saying "okay" again.

"How does this bracelet work, Edward?" I hold it up to the light as I pull back my sleeve.

"Basically if you are in emotional turmoil or physical danger and need my help, it will trigger a message to me, because it monitors you're well-being, and if you say my name into it, this also triggers the device. I have a connecting piece of software on my phone that can alert me to any stress you are in, and it also can show me your current location, so I know where you are. So when it beeped, I made my way to your apartment."

"So can you hear anything I say to it, or is the trigger just activated by me saying your name into it?" I hope that he didn't hear me saying I missed him.

He turns to me grinning now.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

I frown. "Edward."

"Yes, dearest Bella?"

"Answer the question _please._"

"Depends. What don't you want me to have heard?"

He's enjoying this too much.

"Nothing."

"Did you miss me after all?"

I turn to him in horror. "So you did hear?"

He chuckles, and I realise I've fallen for his bait.

"No, I didn't. Happy?"

"Very."

"And, Bella, to answer your question, I can't hear what you say; it just sends out a signal, but I have a good idea of what you said now." He grins, but I don't.

"So you mean this is just like a tracker?"

He has the decency to look sheepish.

"It's merely for your protection, Bella, there are a lot of people — well, vampires — out there that would hurt you for being my mate, so all vampires have their mates where one. It means we can get to you quickly in case of danger."

"All vampires? Emmett said just special vampires. And I'm not an animal, Edward, I want the bracelet off!"

He shrugs his shoulders. "It can't come off. Emmett?"

_Oh dear!_

"Yeah, he turned up to help, when I had a little … mishap — "

"I know all about that, Bella."

"Oh … Well he said only special vampires have this bracelet from the Volturi."

"He's been blabbing too much."

"So it's not true?"

"Depends on how you want to take it."

"That's not really an answer. Emmet also said the mate can take the bracelet off."

"It's suitable for an unnecessary question. And how would Emmett know, you said only special vampires have the bracelets?"

"Isn't Emmett a special vampire?"

"No."

"But you are?"

"Yes."

"So it can't come off?"

"No. That's the end of the discussion."

The tension between us doesn't dissolve at the end of our conversation, since we haven't really talked about anything that's happened. We've only just argued, once again.

It's well into the night — nearing midnight, to be precise. The stars are shining and the obsidian night sky runs on without an end in sight. The apartment complex comes into view. Edward swings the car into an empty space and cuts the engine. He doesn't speak even as he opens my door, and lifts me into his arms.

"I have a crutch, Edward."

"It'll take you forever to walk up the stairs."

I can't find a suitable argument against his point because it would take me a while, and I guess vampires aren't known for their patience, especially at slow human pace.

Edward jogs up the stairs and knocks loudly on the door. Ang's voice quickly follows.

"Bella?"

"Hey, Ang. It's Edward and me."

I hear the unlocking of the door, and a few moments later it swings open to reveal a sleepy eyed Ang in her robe.

"Are you okay?"

"Bella is fine. She's got a broken toe, so she needs to rest it, and I'm going to take her to bed now. You should get some rest, too. You look tired Ang. I'll lock up."

Take me to bed? I whip my head to look at Edward but he refrains from looking at me.

Ang nods sleepily, pulling her housecoat closer around her body, and up towards her neck. She shuffles off in the direction of her room, murmuring a goodnight.

Edward balances me in one of his arms while locking up the house with the other.

"Time for bed." Edward smiles brightly and carts me off in the direction of my own room. We pass Ang's room and I hear a thump and a giggle.

"Ang, you alright?"

I wonder what's up. Edward just passes before I can get a reply, murmuring she's fine. How does he know? He thinks he's so big and almighty, but she's my friend.

"I want to see if she's alright, Edward."

"I've told you, she's fine, and you need sleep." He taps me on the nose, and I attempt to bite his finger, which makes him laugh.

Sam comes barrelling into my room before Edward shuts the door, barking and wagging his tail.

"Shush, boy."

Edward freezes for a moment before he breaks out into hysterical laughter.

"Angela wasn't joking about your collection."

I look at the bed and see my array of memorabilia spread across the bed, and my cheeks tinge pink with the embarrassment of the situation. I burrow my head against his chest, while he continues to laugh.

"Stop it, Edward!"

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just you're so adorable."

"Not laughing at me? You're in hysterics."

This only seems to tip him further into laughter, so I try to extract myself from his grip and with his help, I'm back on my feet and rushing to throw all my "junk" into the box, and shoving it away under the bed.

"Ahh, Bella. That was so cute."

"Cute? Really? It's screams obsessive, bordering on stalker."

"You are. It's the mating and the fact that you are entirely delectable, Miss Swan." Edward leans in and licks my face.

I don't find myself to be scared in the moment, just utterly grossed out.

"Ewww, Edward. You licked me."

"It's a vampire thing. I'm scenting you."

He drops onto the bed and starts twirling a mug around in his hands.

"Where did you get that from?" I frown. That mug seems to have appeared out of thin air ...

"Where do you think?"

I throw my pillow at his head and laugh, feeling happy and free for the first time in a long time.

"You're incorrigible."

"And you need to sleep. Change, then bed."

"Are you leaving?"

"I wasn't planning on."

"Well you can't expect to stay here."

"It's not like this isn't natural progression, Bella. There's no need to act like this."

"Remember our agreement?"

He looks up at me from the bed, with almost puppy dog eyes.

"I promise not to do anything."

"It's too far, Edward, too soon!"

He huffs.

"Stop being an ass, Edward!"

"Excuse me?" His whole expression darkens, and he pulls himself up from the bed.

"You're an ass!" I pull myself to stand fully facing him, before slinging my crutch on the ground.

His eyes narrow at the movement.

"Isabella, I understand I may have been out of line, but do not take that tone with me. I am your mate, and you will respect me."

I hobble over to the door and ignore his half-ass protests. "Bella, stop." "Bella, no." "Bella, you'll hurt yourself." I drag open the door and hold it open.

"Want some respect, Edward, then respect me. Please leave."

His eyes are wide.

"I'm not joking. Leave. You can come back in the morning."

He strides out of the room, and turns back only when he's exited. "I want you to know, Bella. I'd never, ever hurt you. It's a physically impossibility for me, because you are my life. You are the most beautiful, alluring creature I have ever met. I'm not about to leave you."

"Don't try flattery. I'll see you tomorrow at seven, for our date."

I stand there and watch as he flits down the corridor. I don't bother to follow. He'll find a way out of the apartment and make sure it's locked up behind him. I know my toe will protest if I move much more.

"Stupid vampires!" I slam the door. Sam barks before jumping onto my bed. "Come on, boy. Bed time."

I slowly strip down out of my clothes, and pull on the closest pyjamas I can find. I slide into bed and pull Sam over towards me. His fur tickles my nose when I clutch him against my body.

"At least I have you, Sammy-baby."

He merely snuffles in reply and gives me a soppy, wet lick.

"Thanks."

I snuggle down into the covers and close my eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own Twilight, nor it's characters!

Thanks to my wonderful beta, **Her Mighty Ubergeekness.**

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**Update Schedule**: **2 - 5 Weeks**. These are long chapters so it takes me longer to write them, and then have them beta'd!

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* * *

><p><strong>Story recs:<strong>

A Taste of Honey by SoapyMayhem (Bella/Edward)

Hammer and a Nail by DTS Guru (Bella/Paul)

Close To The Pin by rinabina (Bella/Edward)

Through the Lenz by writtenbyabdex (Bella)


	7. The Beginning of Destruction

**Title update: Fatum Lamarium into Fatum Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**  
>~Daddy by Emeli Sande ~<br>~If Now Now, When by Incubus~  
>~The Outsider by Marina &amp; the Diamonds~<p>

**~Chapter Six~**

.The Beginning of Destruction.

_**BPOV**_

Control over my life is something I don't seem to have at the moment. Then again, I don't really believe I ever had. I often wonder if somebody determines the direction of my life. Where it's leading?

I've even contemplated the idea of there being an ulterior force within the world that plans out our every movement. It's my own little fantasy, or as Jake likes to call it, "my science-fiction nerd-world". It gets exciting when I start thinking about creatures — God-like ones — moving us around on a big map of the world just for their own amusement.

If somebody can bring me to … mate with Edward, then surely somebody can control my actions?

I've given it so much thought: are we in giant snow-globes on a shelf? Are we pawns on a giant chessboard? The questions roll from me in an endless stream but there is nobody to answer them questions. Nobody.

Jake chortles whenever I try to introduce this topic to conversation, saying my science "geekdom" is going far above his head. Angela laughs too, saying I read too much, and getting out in the real world would be much better for me.

I sound crazy, I know I do, but I guess when so much of my life has been full of desolation and depression, to throw myself into something so thrilling and exciting gets me a little … over-exuberant. It also happens to be a key theme within the novel I'm working on. Not that my novel will ever go out to the wider public, but a girl can dream.

I feel groggy, and every bone in my body aches. It feels like I've been run over by a truck. A groan slips from my lips and I flop onto my stomach. Something fluffy and wet sniffles at the side of my face. I bat away the fluffy thing, but my actions don't seem to have any effect.

"Go away."

It's wet, cold and sloppy as it brushes my cheek. I let out a little shriek and sit up to see Sam, his tongue lolling out, and looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Bella?"

"That's all I need." I drop backwards onto my bed and pull the covers over my head, burrowing myself within the quilt.

"Isabella?"

"Go away." It takes a while for me to realise that it's Edward, who I sent home last night. _What's he doing here at … _

"No."

"I thought I sent you home."

"I slept on the couch."

"What?" I fling the covers from my body. _He slept on my couch, without my permission! _

"Well … I didn't actually sleep because I can't, but I sat and read for a while."

"You had no right, you should have gone home."

"I wasn't doing any harm."

I frown, looking around the room for a robe to wrap around myself. I refuse to meet Edward in my sleep shorts and vest. He's a perverted stalker as it is; I don't want him getting any ideas.

"Ah-ha!" I reach over the bed and end up tumbling into a pile of clothes where I slip off the edge while reaching for a robe.

"Bella!"

"I'm fine."

"I'm coming in."

"N —" My protest falls short when the door swings open. "Great." I flop back into the pile of clothes, pull at the quilt to hide myself, and close my eyes.  
>"Bella, are you okay?" Edward rushes forward.<p>

I crack open an eyelid. "I'd be much better if you weren't invading my bedroom at stupid-o'clock. Go away."

"Bella, it's nine o'clock."

"Really?"

"Do I look like I lie?"

I raise an eyebrow.

"Don't answer that."

"Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm perfectly fine, and I need to get dressed. Please leave, Edward."

"Not too hard to find your manners."

"Well they never seem to get through your thick vampire skull when I do use them!" I stick my tongue out at him before he leaves, though at least his exit is quiet and without argument, for once. I turn my head to Sam. "What am I going to do, boy?"

He looks at me with his big, loveable eyes that say "how would I know?" I sigh and ruffle his hair.

"I best get dressed, otherwise I'll be late for class."

I quickly search my room for suitable clothing and find that I'm severely lacking in that department. I really need to load a wash. I growl in frustration and kick a pile of clothes, only remembering at the last moment about my broken toe.

"Ahhh!"

"Bella." Edward appears in the door again, wide-eyed.

"Stubbed my toe."

He's by my side within a blink of an eye and lowering me onto the bed. "I told you to be careful."

"I was." I let out a whimper when he brings his hands to probe my foot.

"Try to be careful."

"I promise, Mr. Cullen."

He taps me on the nose before vanishing from the room, which leaves me to fall back against the bed with a gentle thud when I no longer have his arms supporting me. The quilts cushion my blow making it almost enjoyable. I reach bag down to grab the skinny jeans and blue blouse along with my underwear, which probably happen to be the laciest set I own. I shudder in disgust, but when you have no clean clothes it really is whatever you can find. Why do I always let Ang work around me into getting clothes that will "enhance" my personal confidence?

* * *

><p>I drag my hairbrush through my hair, pulling out the knots which have accumulated during my sleep; it looks like a birds nest! With the feeling that I'll get no further with the taming of my mane, I toss the brush aside and pick up one crutch to aide me in my hobble towards the door.<p>

From the corner of my eye, a shape catches my attention. I crane my head around to see the mug with Edward's face set smiling on my desk along with my phone. _Has somebody been tidying up my things? _

I can't say I feel infuriated when the meddling results in making my life easier. If I hadn't noticed them then, they would have surely been misplaced or entirely forgotten on my quest to leave for class. I snatch the phone and mug from the side and hop down towards the kitchen, where voices can already be heard. I can make out Edward and Ang, but there is a third voice that I can't place.

Who would be in our kitchen at this time?

I come to a halt upon entering the kitchen. Three figures all turn to me.

I feel the mug slip from my hands in shock, and I notice Edward flit across to catch the mug, but nothing seems to really register. There before me, is Angela wrapped up in a vampire's arms!

I take a step back. "No! No." I shake my head from side to side. This has to be a nightmare.

"Bella." Ang goes to take a step forward, but the vampire whose arms are around her, constricts and prevents her moving.

Her eyes plead with me to understand.

"How could you?" I feel the tears well in my eyes.

"It's not like that, B. Please, listen to me."

"B-b-but he's a vampire, Ang." I wave my hand in distress to him.

"That's a double standard, B."

"What?"

She raises her hand to Edward. "You have your own."

"The eyes."

Angela blushes this time. "He doesn't usually have red ones."

"What do you mean, doesn't us — oh!" I frown. "You actually let him?"

"It's not what you think, B!"

I take the time to closely analyse her and then I see the bite marks on her neck.

"You let him bite you! What other conclusion could I come to?"

Ben takes a step forward and places his hand on Ang's hip whilst he opens his mouth to reveal his elongated fangs. Ang brings her hand to cover his and rubs it gently.

"B, it's part of the mating. Sit down, and we can talk."

"I don't want to talk!" She was trying to placate me, and I didn't want to be placated. She let a vampire bite her after everything that had occurred in my past.

I felt rather than saw Edward move closer to me, and then he slipped his arm around my waist in support. I was so angry with Ang that I couldn't even bring myself around to tense or freeze while in such close proximity to Edward.

"Well you're going to," Edward whispered. He lifted me up off my feet and I shrieked. We ended up sitting on the chair with me in his lap — pouting.

"This is not funny, Edward."

"It's definitely not, but this is the only way in which I can see you possibly listening and maintaining your seat so that we can talk."

"You just want me sat on your lap."

"And that." He was being smug, and it made me want to wipe that smile right off his face. _A good thwack round the head would work. If only it could damage him …_

"Ready to talk?" Ang looks sadly across at me from where she's wrapped up in the warmth of Ben's arms.

_How could she? _

"I suppose."

I knew I was being entirely bitchy to Ang — my best friend — but I feel like I've been betrayed.

"Good. The bite is part of the blood exchange that has to occur when we fully mate."

I feel my head swirl. I try to block out the images and the passages I'd read on the internet about vampire mating — all the rites and acts that are part of the ritual.

"Well that's why I have the bite and why Ben's eyes are red. You see they're normally golden like Edward's."

"I can't deal with this." I shake my head and drop it into my hands. First they persecute me, and now Ang. Why? She's turning into one of the bubbly, happy, love-sick little girls that trot after their mate like a good submissive little wife. They make me sick!

Edward's hand comes up to caress my back.

"Don't. Touch. Me."

I don't attempt to climb from his lap because his arms are steel restraining bands around me. I can't bear his touch at this moment. His coolness seeps into my body and sends shivers, and the electricity flows between my nerves and his, making my every cell tingle when he's near. I hate my body for the reaction it brings about when Edward's close to me.

"Bella."

I look up to Ang with pleading eyes.

"What have I done to deserve this?"

"Honey, you haven't done anything." Ang slips from between Ben's arms and I watch as their joined fingers stretch out to remain in contact with each other. Ben's fingers gently caresses her arm before he leans back against the counter and watches me with cautioning eyes.

_Why can't Edward acquiesce to my requests?_I feel my body convulse while holding back my tears.

Edward draws me closer to his body, and despite my hatred for him at times, his proximity sooths me. His scent fills my senses and I drag it in into my lungs like a drug. Oh dear, he's turning me into the needy, the dependent. I'll become a walking zombie, only feeling alive when I get my fix from Edward.

"Let me go." I slump into Ang's arms when he releases his grip on me.

I allow myself the release that I've been denying for a long time; the need to cry. My emotions come out in a stream. It seems like my sobs will never end, but eventually they begin to slow.

"D-d-did it hurt?" I sniffle against her shoulder, my tears drying up.

She strokes my hair. "No."

I pull back a little and see her cheeks flushing under my gaze, I raise my eyebrows.

"It's not for mixed company."

I feel myself blush, remembering the process of the "mating". It wasn't a figure of speech, the act required physical intercourse.  
>I clear my throat and turn to Ben. "Hurt her and I'll chop of your balls, vampire or not."<p>

He shifts, looking rather uncomfortable. Edward chuckles.

He nods his head. "I could never hurt Angela."

I narrow my eyes but don't speak. I'm not ever going to trust a vampire _I'm _mated to, never mind one who's mating my best friend.

Edward drags me back onto his lap and nuzzles my hair. I tense, and his mouth comes to next to my ear. "We're going to talk about this soon. It's not acceptable for you to work yourself into such a state, Isabella. I will not tolerate this behaviour much longer. Nor will I tolerate such threats to other members of my species."

I am humiliated by the way he is speaking to me and attempt to shuffle away from his hold but he drags me back against his chest with a firm hand. I fight back the tears and don't sink to the level of an argument because I can't have one on two fronts. I've learnt my lesson before about vampires taking control, and I won't allow myself to slip into my old ways. Surely all vampire males do not treat their mates in such a manner?

"No." Despite my anger with him his cool breath against my neck made me shiver.

I turn around to him, eyebrows raised. "Sorry."

"You were wondering if all vampires treat their females in such a manner, and the answer in no."

I gawk. "I thought you couldn't read my mind?"

"I can't, but sometimes I catch errant thoughts, this one was particularly loud."

"Oh. Why don't all vampires treat their mates the same then?"

"Isabella, we have company."

"Tell me!"

He sighs. "I'll explain more later, but to keep it simple, it's the training of our mate to the way in which she should behave."

"Training?"

"Yes. A vampire male requires a submissive mate, and this is the way in which we help our female to adapt into her role."

"You expect me to roll over and spread my legs basically at your beck and call, and not speak out of turn if not at all?"

The hardness in his eyes seems to fade out as they return to sparkling gold. "I'm sorry I've given you that impression, but it doesn't mean you shouldn't respect me as your superior."

"Superior? Whatever happened to equality?"

"It is not the time to discuss such matters. It is much improper, Isabella. We have company!"

I turn back to face Ang and Ben who are both waiting expectantly. Ang with an amused face while Ben looks disapprovingly upon Edward. He's probably thinking Edward needs better control of his little "mate". The word alone makes me want to sneer and vomit.

"How did you meet? When did this happen?" I wave my hand between the two.

Ang immediately perks up and starts to bounce on Ben's lap. He bends to whisper something in her ear before nipping her neck, and she stops bouncing. _Odd …_

I turn to Edward, but he urges me back around. "I'll answer your question later."

I lean back against his. "You better."

"We met at Ben's photography studio about two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?"

"Yes … I'm sorry, Bella. You were so hung up on Edward, I didn't want to upset you further and flaunt it in your face. Although it made me see your relationship more clearly, which is why I tried to urge you to contact him."

I frown. "Go on."

"Well I was walking through center of town — you know where the little coffee shop we like is?"

I nod my head.

"I went past there and saw a little photography studio. The pictures were really awesome; they had all these scenes and different colour schemes and lenses …" Ang's photography babbled on, and my thoughts drifted away from the topic of conversation. She might be my best friend but talking about photographic terms really left me feeling … stupid.

"... So I went in and he was there, directing his staff around. Then he turned around." She got that dreamy eyed look again and sighed, snuggling back against Ben. He looked down at her, and I could see the mutual affection between the two in how he looked at her. It was sickening.

"I knew then. It was perfect."

"Ang?"

She looks up at me, and questions me with a raised brow.

"Stop acting like a little love-sick calf."

She blinks and sits up. "Sorry."

"So do you own just the one studio?"

Ben turns to me, eyeing me warily although it could be disdain. Either way, Edward tenses beneath me so he obviously doesn't like the look.

"I have many scattered across Northern America. This is the first store I set up and it's rather a favourite of mine, so I tend to pop in more often."

"Isn't that nice."

"Isabella!" Edward grips my hips tighter in warning, but I ignore him.

"Yes." A creepy smile spreads across Ben's face.

"Do you mind my asking how old you are?"

"Not at all. I'm twenty-six."

"Is that physically or vampire years?"

"Both."

"Ahh. Not quite at my Edward's expertise level yet." I thread my fingers into Edward's hair, as I turn slightly in his lap. I couldn't say where it's coming from, but I feel the need to preen about Edward because I'm severely disliking Ben.

"No." He eyes Edward warily this time and I remain silent.

Nobody speaks for what seems a while, but Angela is looks gleeful — a look that begins to border on ecstatic when Ben places a kiss against the side of her forehead. I might not like him, but the two seem to mesh well. They actually fit together like two jigsaw pieces, unlike me and Edward. I'm a plain Jane, and he's a movie star. He's probably the most handsome man I've ever seen and he's been stuck with me.

I'm not sure if the drastic difference between Edward and me is something that held me back or if it's my past, too. I sigh and flop back against Edward. At moments like this I feel like there is no point to my fighting the inevitable because it seems like Edward is going to get his way eventually anyway. Despite this I can't help but feel the conflict over the rules I set out for myself after _him, _the one who hurt me. I can't go against them.

Part of me feels like it's unfair to Edward to even enter a relationship because I feel like I'll never truly love him since after he left me — the evil bloodsucker — something died inside of me. Edward would be entering an half-life in a relationship with me, and he'd be stuck with somebody who has a broken soul; I couldn't ask that of him.

"Oh, Bella. It's nearly ten. You're going to be late for class."

I blink rapidly, breaking away from my inner thoughts to look at the clock. "Ah, crap!"

"I'll drive." Edward stands, forcing me upwards with him.

"Um …"

"I'll drive. Get your things, Isabella!"

I huff in defiance, but shuffle away to collect my things.

* * *

><p>I slide into Edward's car, not happy at all about the arrangement. Not only will his sleek, black car attract unwanted attention, but if anybody actually sees me with Edward, I may never live it down. I'll be harassed until I leave or until I die.<p>

Edward starts the car up and it purrs. A hell of a nice sound compared to my truck. He gives said truck a look of horror.

"Do you know who's hunk of metal that is? They need to move it to the junk yard; it's an accident waiting to happen."

I shift uncomfortably and Edward turns to eye me.

"Please tell me it's not yours."

"It's not mine."

"Bella." He narrows his eyes.

"It's not that bad."

"Dammit, Bella! Why didn't you tell me you were riding a death trap?"

"My baby works just fine! It's got character." I grin proudly.

"If you class peeling paint, a rusty exterior, and a door that looks like it will drop of its hinge if it's opened, 'character,' it's got tonnes!"

I frown at him. "What are you planning, Edward?"

"Nothing." He gives me a smile that summarises conspiracy.

"Don't you even try to scrap my baby!"

He eyes me closely. "I will not allow you to drive it. I'll give you plenty of free will with everything, but this, Isabella, I cannot allow! I won't allow you to put yourself in danger, I care too much about you!"

I freeze. He cares for me … but my truck.

"Edward."

"Yes, Bella?"

"I can't get rid of my truck."

"I can't allow you to drive it, Bella."

"No, Edward, that's not what I mean, I — I …"

"Bella?"

"My dad gave it to me, Edward."

"Well what do you want to do with it?"

"Can you keep it? Store it somewhere for me until I'm ready to let go."

He turns to me, his eyes full of questions. "Of course."

He pulls the car from it's parked position out into the main avenue. He drives with a smooth precision that makes me feel calm and comfortable while still driving at a stupidly fast speed.

"Isabella?"

I turn to look at him.

"What did he do to you?"

"Who, Edward?"

"The one who's made you like this. So … empty."

I turn away to stare out of the window. "Tell me, Bella. What did he do to you?"

In this moment, the window holds much more appeal than reveal my past of horrors. What would he think if he ever found out about me?

"It's not what he did but what _I did_you should be worried about," I whisper against the window pane. I close my eyes and hold in the pain. I don't want to talk about it, not here, not now and certainly not to Edward.

Edward ramps up the speed of the car when he realises I'm not going to divulge any more of my past to him. I twist my head slightly to look at the speed dial; it's verging on 90 miles per hour, but I can't bring myself to care. I watch as he weaves between the cars on the freeway and swerves to take the exit required to get my college. He does it all with an ease that's unlike any I've seen before.

To be truthful, I'm surprised that he's not been pulled over by the police. Then again, he'd have no fear — they'd wave him on his way for being a vampire, or he'd bribe them with a large wad of money. Although it could be far less difficult; he could just offer his autograph and flash a dazzling "I'm Edward Cullen" smile.

I'd like to see the police pull him over just to watch the situation and see how he handles it, but that would certainly make me late for class. Why does Edward have to come with more cons than pros?

I continue to watch the passing buildings, and the metallic grey and silver all a blur into one. It's hard to determine where we are when everything seems to be in the same continuous stream of bland, dull grey. The car comes screeching to a halt. The tires protesting at the sudden breaking.

I clutch the edges of my seat in a death grip.

"Edward!"

He throws back his head and laughs, not even bothering to look while he puts the car in park.

"Are you trying to kill me!" I look at him in horror.

He turns to me, his lips turned up in a smirk. "My driving is perfectly adequate, and you're safe with me. My reactions are faster than any expert." He brings his hands up to wiggle his fingers so he can emphasise his point.

"Safe! That's the thing I'm probably furthest from." I fold my arms and glare at him.

He brings his hand to cup my chin and he caresses my cheek. "Darling Bella. Do not worry about my driving." He flashes me that smile that makes me want to melt. If I wasn't sitting down, I'd surely be collapsed on the floor.

"Bella." He tickles under my chin with his fingers and I shrink away.

"Edward!" My scolding tone hid my adrenaline fueled fear from his driving.

"I've told you to stop worrying, Bella. You're in time for your class, and it's not going to tarnish your perfect record."

I frown at his teasing. "How do you know about my perfect record?"

He quickly averts his eyes, and it looks far too shifty for me.

"Edward?"

"Ahh … you see, Bella. Don't get mad. It was for your own well-being."

"My well-being?" I narrow my eyes at him, and lean forward in my seat.

"Yes, your well-being. While I was away I had to check up on you, to make sure you were coping. It doesn't matter now, we haven't time for such frivolities. Oh, Angela is picking you up after you're done with your classes to take you dress shopping for our date tonight." He beams from his success at redirecting our conversation.

"Dress shopping?" _Oh no! Not that kind of torture. _

"Shopping is meant to be fun, Bella. You look like I've just told you that a group of puppies have just been massacred."

I flinch at the mental image. "I hate shopping."

"You'll learn to love it. Now run along, Sweetheart. Enjoy your day."

I quickly move to climb from the car, and I push out my crutches first. Then I feel a hand on my ass. I slowly turn my head.

"Hand. Off. My. Ass. Now!"

"I was helping you out of the car, we don't want any more injuries, do we, Bella?" He looks too innocent for my liking.

Something is different about him this morning. He's acting strange, almost playful. I haven't decided if I like it or not yet.

"My ass doesn't need any aid."

He laughs. "You're attracting attention, Isabella. I'm sure you'd hate to do that."

I look around and lo and behold, every student on campus seems to want to walk into campus today. I have the strongest urge to go stick my tongue out and flip them off, but I highly doubt it would be "the proper way to behave". I wouldn't want to sink to such a level because then I'd be representing a bad side to Edward and I wouldn't want to put the big, bad vampire out now would I? Since then all his fans would be crying and weeping over Edward mating with a bitch, and "poor, Edward" this and "poor, Edward" that. _Damn, I hate politics!_

"It's not me attracting attention, it's you. I am a nobody. You are the one everybody wants to meet, and I told you this was a bad idea. If I get mobbed, I'm blaming you."

His face seemed to go even paler and his eyes darken to black. "You won't get mobbed."

"I was joking, Edward. Joke. Haha. You laugh at a joke."

"Yes, Isabella. I know the definition of a joke, and your safety is never to be joked about. Now, off to class!"

I glare at him when his demanding arrogance returns. I haul myself away from the car and slam the door nice and hard behind me. I start to hop away when I hear the electric hum of the window sliding down.

"Isabella?"

I twist my head to see Edward leaning out of the car.

"Yes, Edward?"

"Don't slam the door on my baby again. It's rude, and you know I'd hate to punish you for being a bad girl."

I feel my jaw drop. _Punish me? Where does this guy get off? _

He grins like a damn Cheshire cat before rolling up the window. I'd throw something at his car just to scratch it, and then he'd have something to complain about. Or maybe I can key it? I shake my head at the childish thoughts; I shall rise above this … this ape of a man. Then he's gone, driving off in his flashy, black Mercedes like he's the freaking president!

I am Isabella Swan: mature, sensible and collected.

I sigh with defeat when I pick up on the murmuring of other students. I hear my own name thrown in amongst the whispers about if it was really Edward Cullen. I think I even hear somebody say he's their wet dream. Wouldn't surprise me, but I really couldn't say he's mine.

I shudder at the thought.

"Bella! Bella!"

I groan and turn to face the ever eager Eric Yorkie.

"Hey, Eric."

"Oh my gosh, Bella! Please tell me that was 'the' Edward Cullen you rode in with this morning." His face is a vision of excitement. He looks like he's going to wet his pants; he's that excited.

"No, it was an imaginary figure that drove the car."

"God, Bella. When did you get so sarcastic?"

I turn to him in surprise. "Um … I don't know, when Edward hijacked my life and started making his demands that I bow down to him as he is the superior being and my master seeing as he's of the male gender."

"So it _was_Edward! I knew it. How the hell did you get that piece of ass, Bella. Please tell me you tapped that?"

I cringe at his crude use of language. "Eric, do you know the definition of private?"

"Sure. The definition of private is when something, generally a secret or substantial information, is pertained to or affects a single person or group that they do not wish to share this information outside themselves. Or they wish it solely to be kept quiet away from the general population. Then you have personal property when it belongs to an individual person and is of their own making or purchase. Finally, there is —"

"Eric!" I hold up my hand to stop him.

"Yeah?"

"I only wanted the last one."

"Oh sure." He smiles. The boy is like a dictionary but he really doesn't know when to butt out.

"I'm glad you understand the meaning of private, because what happens between Edward and me is just that: private. Now I have to hobble to class, and I'd like to do it in peace."

He pauses, and blinks at me. "Damn, Bella. Somebody really shoved a stick up your butt this weekend. Way to be a bitch."

_Did he just call me a bitch? _

He flounces off, his shoulder bag flopping while he wiggles his hips from side to side. If that boy isn't gay, Santa Clause is real.

I can't believe he called me a bitch. Am I really being that mean to Edward? I agreed to go on a date with him, didn't I? One date with him can't be that bad. Although it might make him see that I'm really not worth the trouble.

Oh dear. A date with Edward. How can it even be normal. He'll probably get harassed and his photo taken every five seconds. I feel my stomach roll in protest at the thought.

_Can I really do this date? What harm can it do, it's just one date?_

* * *

><p>I attempt to trudge — much more like a hobble with my crutches — out of my last class of the day. I'm entirely exhausted after the bombardment of questions from basically every female member of campus, and even half of the male gender today about Edward and me. Are we a couple now? Am I his mate? Was it just a random hook-up? How the hell did I get him? The questions never seem to end.<p>

Then when the females weren't asking questions, they were shooting me death glares, and the boys were all eyeing me up. It left me feeling extremely uncomfortable. Nobody has noticed me in the first year and two months that I've been there, but because I arrived with somebody famous this morning, I get recognised.

Not only am I left harassed, mauled and overwhelmed, but I'm entirely drained of energy. Who knew fending off people could be so much hard work. It actually leaves me feeling sorry for Edward if he's had to deal with this on a daily basis for the past forty years. And I'm not even the famous person, it must be ten times worse for them.

I see Ang's car parked at the far side of the campus parking lot, and I pick up my crutch. I use them to propel me forward, ignoring my bag when it drops down onto my arm and starts swinging wildly. I just want to escape the rabble of students.

I practically throw myself in after opening the door to Ang's car and tossing in my crutches.

"Eek!" Ang jumps in fright.

"Sorry." I slide myself into a comfortable position and drop my bag onto the floor.

The first thing I notice is the difference in Ang's the upholstery in Edward's car. His seats were plush, soft leather that enveloped you in a loving caress. Ang's are harder, more worn — still comfortable — but not quite the same. I buckle my seatbelt before turning to Ang.

"You don't look happy."

I throw my head back against the seat. "I'm not."

"What happened?"

"The whole campus has taken to stalking and harassing me!"

"Bella?"

"What?" I twist my head to the side and stare at her.

"You should tell Edward; you can't let this happen."

"What will he do? Come sweeping in like my knight in shining armor and tell them all to leave me alone? I'm sure that would make it so much better."

She holds my glance for a few moments and then we both burst into laughter.

"I'm sorry, B-Bella. Just the image that painted in my head is so funny!" She grasps her sides in laughter.

"Yeah, it is."

I lean over and hug her. We manage to calm ourselves down after a few moments.

"Couldn't Jess help?"

"Jess, really?"

She pauses. "Maybe not."

We laugh again. "Jess is useful for all of nothing. She was in amongst the harassers."

"I didn't think of that."

I groan. "Why couldn't I have mated to a nobody at the least?"

Ang gasps.

"What?"

"So you're actually accepting that you've got a mate now?"

"Umm … I guess so. I don't really have a choice."

She shrieks and throws her arms around my neck.

"Ang, you're deafening me."

"Sorry, Bella! It's great to see you getting over your past."

"I wouldn't quite say that."

Ang starts up the car. "Are you going to tell Edward you've had the whole male population of campus running around after you?"

I turn to her in horror. "No! Did you see how he reacted with Jacob? He'd probably go and eat them!"

"Bella!"

"What?"

"He doesn't eat people!"

"How do you know?"

"He drinks their blood!"

I start laughing as Ang makes a bad attempt at a Dracula-like impression.

"Being serious now — I'm not going to tell him, and you aren't going to either." I fix her with a hard stare.

"Pinkie swear." She holds up her pinkie and we shake them gingerly.

"Then lets go shopping!" She bounces in her seat and I groan in defeat.

Shopping, the bane of my existence.

* * *

><p>Angela pulls me out of the car, giggling all the while. "Come on, Bella, this is meant to be fun."<p>

"I do not call blowing all my money on some new clothes for a date, "fun"."

She turns to me, and smirks. "You won't have to."

"What does that mean?" I narrow my eyes. She can't spend money on me because neither of us can afford it.

She waves a piece of black plastic before my eyes. I try to snatch it from her hand but she pulls it away and continues dragging me along.

"What is that, Ang?"

"Promise not to throw it down the drain or something equally stupid if I tell you."

"I-I promise."

"Great! It's Edward's credit card."

"What?"

"Oh c'mon, Bella. Live a little."

"By using Edward's credit card?"

"Yes."

"We are not using it."

"Don't be so uptight, B. He wants you to get a nice outfit, and for once in your life, allow yourself to revel in something nice. Do you want to look like a tramp on your date?"

I think about how I will look compared to Edward if I don't get something nice … horrible. I'll look like a homeless beggar. I sigh in defeat and and allow Ang to pull me along.

"Great. Lets go make you look hot for your date!"

I groan internally at her emphasis on "date" and "hot".

"Where are we going, Ang?"

"Umm … do you know that new little boutique that's just opened up in the centre of town?"

"Yeah. What's it called?"

"Alice's. Apparently it has some great little outfits, and the owner is meant to be able to find the perfect outfit, for everyone."

"Lead the way before I change my mind." I watch as the numerous shops pass by and we take a step closer towards Alice's and what looks to be hours of torture.

* * *

><p>The shop is before me, and it's nothing like me. Everything in the window is sparkly and it has that air that screams, "I cost too much for you".<p>

"Come on, B." Ang smiles reassuringly.

I hop behind on my crutch. I had to leave the other one behind because Ang insisted I had no capacity to be an invalid tonight, and it's not like I actually need it. The only reason I'd got them in the first place was to placate Edward, and he's not here now. At least he can't carry me around bridal style tonight … at least I think he can't. Truthfully, I'd never put such behaviour past Edward because at best, he's a cave man.

Before my feet are even fully through the door, something comes streaking from the back just stopping before us. Then I realise it's not a thing, but a woman. A vampire woman.

She's short while still being strikingly beautiful. Her hair is dark brown and flicked out in all directions. It frames her face so it accentuates her pointy chin and defines her features. Her eyes are golden, framed with thick, brown lashes, and her clothes are very chic. She's wearing a strapless figure-hugging dress that has trails of silver sequins that splay from the middle like branches, and she's accentuated it with a pair of stunning silver heels. I'm assuming the dress is of her own design; it wouldn't suit to wear somebody else's design while running a boutique I guess.

"Are they Jimmy Choos!"

I look between Ang's excited face and the smiling pixie.

"Yes. Do you like them?" She holds up her foot for Ang to see.

"Damn! You're so lucky. I'd love a pair of those."

There is a moment of awkward silence.

"So, which one of you two is looking for an outfit, or is it both?" She closes her eyes, for a moment and seems to search for something.

Ang turns to me. "It's her. She's going on a date. A hot date."

The pixie's eyes open, and she smiles. "Perfect. Come this way." She turns around and walks off in the direction of the back.

I give Ang a meaningful stare. She's weird.

"Oh, my name is Alice Whitlock but please, call me Alice!"

"I'm Ang, and this is Bella."

"I know."

I grip Ang's arm. "She's really starting to freak me out. Who recommended this place?"

"Edward."

"Figures." I crinkle up my nose in disgust.

I hope she's not another one of his ho-bags. That would really top of my day.

* * *

><p>I sit on the stool, pouting while Alice holds up several dresses in her arms. Most of them are hideous. I thought she was meant to be a fashion designer?<p>

"I'm not being funny, but they're hideous!"

Alice's face breaks into a smile. "Good."

"What?"

"It was a test to see how far your fashion sense is gone."

"What if I was really shy and afraid of offending you?"

"You're not like that." She flits into the back again like a rabbit on speed.

"Ang, seriously! I want to go."

"Bella, give her a chance."

"She isn't normal."

"Who isn't normal?"

"Ahh!" I jump from my stool in fright as the pixie appears beside me.

She giggles.

"So I have three dresses for you to try on." She thrusts them into my hands before pushing me towards the small dressing room.

I stumble in with a frown. This was not how I imagined my day.

* * *

><p>I'm down to the last dress of the three. The other two were fails. The first a black, wrapped-around thing that was so flimsy that it barely covered anything. The second was a deep purple and it washed me out.<p>

My final choice is deep, emerald green and strapless. It has a band around my waist that pushes up my bust and has gems scattered across. From there it fans out into folded layers and reaches down to mid-thigh where it pulls in again. It's shaped to my body, and defines my curves. The material is soft and silky, and brushes against my skin like a caress.

Surprisingly it matches my bracelet. I guess I'll have to match most things to that, with it having permanent residence on my wrist.

I pull back the curtain and step from the dressing room. "What do you think?"

"Perfect." Alice jumps up and claps her hands. She rushes off into the back.

"You look stunning!" Ang gives me a gentle hug.

"Thanks, Ang."

"And your butt doesn't look big, either."

I give her a playful push. "My ass has never looked big!"

"It just wobbles about." Ang cracks up laughing and I find myself joining in.

I might despise shopping, but this has lifted up my spirits unlike any other trip.

Alice comes bouncing back over with a pair of high, dark green, satin heels. They have studs across the base, and look impossible to walk in.

"I'm not wearing those!"

"Of course you are."

"They're death traps."

"Don't pout, Bella, it's unattractive." Alice lifts up my foot and helps me slide on a shoe. She quickly pulls away some of the bandaging on my injured toe and slips on the shoe.

"Perfect."

I totter gently on the heels, and fling my hand out to steady myself. I lift a shoe to rub it against my palm and feel the material slide beneath my hand. I straighten myself up, and push my hair back with my hand.

"Take it off and I'll bag it up for you."

I blink. How does she even know I want to take it? I slip back into the dressing room, not before kicking of the shoes, and I unzip my dress. I hand it out to Alice, and quickly pull on my comfy jeans and blouse. Home sweet home.

"Oh, I almost forgot, you'll want to take these, too."

"What?" I peak my head around the curtain to see her holding up several pieces of lace.

"That has never been underwear."

"Don't be a prude, Bella!"

"Fine." I'm too tired to fight over underwear, and I don't even have to wear it.

Alice brings out a bag with the dress, and quickly hides away the lingerie.

"How do you want to pay?"

"We have a credit card!" Ang pulls out her black, plastic card and thrusts it into Alice's palm.

I narrow my eyes but refrain from saying anything. Alice takes the card from Ang and scrutinises it.

"Where did you get this?"

"Why?" See, I knew she was weird. Asking where I got a credit card from.

"It says, 'Mr. E. Cullen'."

"Oh."

"It's Bella's date, he wanted her to spoil herself."

"Lucky girl." Alice wanders off at a slow, human pace this time, all the while twirling the little black piece of plastic in her hands.

I want to throw away that plastic and never see it again. It's bribery. He's buying me, and I hate that I'm allowing it.

"Hey, Ang?"

"Yeah?"

"Do we have time for a detour?"

"Well, we've got the beauty salon next."

"Can we stop at Jimmy Choo?"

"Why, B?" She narrows her eyes.

"I want to get you a thank you present."

"B, no!"

"Ahh, come on! He gave us the credit card."

"For you to spend on yourself!"

"I can always say they are for me."

"Ben can buy me some."

I pout. I just got a good idea to annoy him and Ang goes and spoils it.

"All done." Alice comes back over, credit card and bag in hand.

I reach out and take both from her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Bella."

"I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Yeah." I wave to her when Ang and me leave. I'm sure I'll never see her again, because I haven't the funds to shop in a place like this.

"Here we come, Jimmy Choo!" I giggle and throw my arms up in the air.

Ang can't stop me now.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or its characters!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you to my beta, **Her Mighty Ubergeekness**, and my new pre-reader, **VoltActionSniper**.

Follow me on Twitter at NerdetteLove. There is a banner on my profile.

I have a thank you to everybody who has been concerned about my whereabout, it made me smile! And motivated me.

Sorry for the lack of updates. I have no excuse except being busy, and I have to work through some trouble with characterization faults for the story which takes up time.

I **appreciate each and every review**, along with alerts and favourites. I cannot believe I have over 100 reviews. I never expected such a response. I am truly touched! Thank you!

**Update: 2 – 4 weeks.**

Hope you'll** leave me a review**! I adore them!

Nerdette! x

* * *

><p><strong>Story Recs:<strong>

The Slowest Burn by TypoKween (Bella/Edward) AH. (This story is sooo intense!)

In Love With a Wolf by XxBloodyredrosexX (Bella/Edward) AU. (I'm addicted to this, unlike anything I've read!)

Sincerely, Sergeant Masen by 2carm2carm2 (Bella/Edward) AH. (I actually cried at this!)

Ride by kris salvador (Bella/Edward) AH. (A very enjoyable read!)


	8. The Date

**Title update: Fatum Lamarium into Fatum Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**  
>~Don't Go Feat. Josh Kumra by Wretch 32~<br>~Fools With Dreams by Framing Hanley~  
>~The Scientist by Coldplay~<p>

**~Chapter Seven~**

.The Date.

_**BPOV**_

Reckless. One might say they _are_reckless or they've done something reckless, but what do they actually mean?

To be so utterly unconcerned about the consequences of ones actions that one doesn't proceed with caution. That's how I would describe reckless. It can be said in many other ways: rash, heedless, negligent and even imprudent.

Reckless isn't something that I've ever associated with myself other than on two occasions. The first being the befriending of him, something that I shall regret to the day I no longer walk this earth. The second, my shopping spree at Jimmy Choo with Edward's credit card. I don't know what came over me. One could almost say I'd gained a split personality.

_Oh no! What had I done?_He is going to be really mad with me when I see him. I'd spent over three thousand dollars on shoes. I'd never even had that kind of money to spend on a house or a car, never mind frittering it away on shoes.

At the time it had seemed like a great idea. Ang had really wanted a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes and Edward had been annoying. He's had the whole "I am man, I take care of woman" attitude since I'd met him, so I thought it would show him how much I appreciated it.

It was reckless.

I allow myself to fall face first into my pillow with a mild thump and groan when my nose smashes into the bunched hardness.

I may not have great affection for Edward, but frittering away his hard earned money is childish. The three boxes of shoes were taunting me from the side of the bed, goading me and reminding me of my guilt. I'd bought myself a pair of flat, gold trainers. Who bought sneakers from Jimmy Choo? Then I added a pair of high-heel, purple, suede shoes and some gladiator sandals like the ones Alice, from the boutique, had. I've never been a shopper, but shoes have an allure that's hard not to succumb to. Converse are the only shoes I've ever allowed myself to invest in. I have 16 pairs.

The dip in my pillow forces me to burrow deeper in an attempt to block out the light and give me a moment to pull myself together. I'm a grown woman and I can face Edward like an adult to apologise if the time should come. I can promise to pay him back if he wants, although I'm sure he'd rebuff that offer, no matter how angry he is.

"B!"

"Go away."

"What did you say?"

I twist my head so the pillow no longer muffles my voice. "Go away."

"Are you dressed?"

"No."

"B, you only have an hour."

"I don't want to go."

"I'm coming in." Ang throws open the door and glares at me. She's usually the type of friend who never interferes and minds all of my private business, but since Edward and Ben made an appearance in our lives, she won't never left me alone and is always harassing me. **  
><strong>  
>"Ang."<p>

"Don't whine, B. Let's make you look pretty. Shower. Now!" She pulls on my leg to gain my attention.

"I'm coming."

* * *

><p>"You look amazing, B."<p>

I blush. "Don't be stupid." I fiddle with the hem of the dress in an attempt to defer attention from myself.

Ang takes my hands in hers. "I know you've had a hard time over the past few years but believe me, none of it's your fault."

I turn my head away, not wanting to accept her words as truth when I know they're not. Everything was my fault.

She twists my head back around with her hand. "It's not your fault! Please, for me and for your dad, enjoy tonight."

I break out of her grip and wrap my hands around myself. My dad. I can't think of him, not at this moment.

The buzzing of the doorbell breaks the awkward silence between the two of us.

"Will you get that? I need a moment."

"Sure."

I bring my hand up to ruffle my hair and move it away from my shoulder. So I can view my neck in the mirror, I twist my head to look at the markings there that bring back the horrors of the past.

_His eyes are tinged with a red glint, and he chuckles, dark and low. _

_"Bella, when will you ever learn?"_

_"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. You know you're my best friend."_

_"Don't lie to me! You slept with Mike!"_

_"He didn't mean anything! It was prom night and I didn't think you thought of me that way." I cower away from his fierce gaze. He makes me so afraid that I daren't look at him. _

_"Show me how much I mean to you. Shoot him." _

_I bite down on my bottom lip as it quivers. "S-s-shoot?" _

_"Yes! Shoot, Isabella."_

_"I can't." _

_He grasps my face in his hand, hard, and I feel my jaw giving beneath his strong hold. I whimper in pain._

_"You're hurting me." _

_"Shut up!" His fangs elongate, telling me he's enjoying this as his figure looms over me. He's an imposing character despite his short stature. _

_"Shoot him."_

_"No!"_

_"Then I'll have to make you." His fangs, fully elongated, sink into my neck and he bites down hard. I remember screaming, screaming a lot, and I heard a voice in my head telling me what to do. The skin on my neck was torn away whilst simultaneously the sound of a shot rang around the room, and my body jostled in shock from the reverberating impact. _

_The gun had gone off. _

"B, Edward's here."

I blink back the tears and swallow the bile rising in my throat.

"I'm coming, two minutes." My hand lingers on the still red, teeth-shaped markings on my neck. The scar has never faded; it will always be a reminder. They weren't just puncture marks from fangs — he'd chomped down real hard — they were a full set of teeth marks. A large section of my neck had been taken out, and it was only his venom that had saved me when he'd licked it clean. I was so close to death and sometimes I think it would have been so much easier to end life then.

My hand residing on the mark can feel the temperature difference between the two patches of skin. The scar is ice cool and my skin is hot and flushed. He left an essence of himself in my body when he bit me, and that will never be removed. That essence has marked me as evil, and I can't stand the thought.

"Bella?"

"I'm fine! I need to grab my bag." I'm careful to cover up the markings before I grab my bag from Ang's bed and totter from the room, all the while fiddling with my dress.

Once I enter the living room, I don't look up until I'm half-way through. Then I freeze. Edward is standing there in a tux.

He looks delicious. Edible. _Why does somebody so attractive have to be a complete ass?_

"You look stunning." His eyes peruse my body, and he takes in every inch. It's one of those looks that makes one feel like they're being mentally undressed. I don't have much experience with those looks, but seeing Edward gazing at me so intensely with his burning gaze, it is hard to describe in any other way.

I feel my skin start to turn red and I try to keep my cool because if I get too emotional or warm my skin covers in red blotches. It's highly unattractive.

"You're not taking your crutches?"

"No."

Edward's face is marred by a frown and Ang gentle jabs at him with her elbow, and the frown vanishes like it had never even been there.

_What happened there?  
><em>  
>"Are you ready to go, Isabella?" He holds out his arm for me.<p>

"Yes."

"Fabulous."

I move across the room to take his arm, and he pulls me tightly against him making sure he has a secure grip on my arm before we turn to leave.

"I'll return Isabella later. Enjoy your evening with Benjamin, Angela."

Ang waves to us both, smiling.

"You really do look beautiful tonight, Isabella."

Edward guides us slowly down the steps and I keep a firm grip on him to stop myself from falling in my heels. I don't see why I couldn't have worn flat shoes; they are much easier to walk in. I resigned myself to the fate of heels after the numerous times Ang insisted that they "make the outfit".

"Are you alright, Isabella?"

"I'm fine. It's a little hard to walk in these shoes."

"Then why did you wear them?" He looks down at me, a little confused.

I laugh. "Because they 'make the outfit'."

He looks flabbergasted and I'm sure I hear something about "women" and "weird" in his mutterings, but they are so low I couldn't possibly be certain.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>After a swift thirty minute journey that would have taken any normal person about an hour, we arrive at a small, fancy-looking restaurant. I have to say, it looks nice from the outside, and first impressions always count. It looks quiet, so hopefully we won't get hassled.<p>

Edward is at my side of the car in the blink of an eye and opening my door like a true gentleman. I guess there are perks to going on a date with such an old man: he's been raised with old fashioned values. The only other side of him I've seen is that of an over-possessive, controlling, pig-headed git.

"Dinner awaits us, mi' lady." Edward proffers his arm to me again to aid me in getting out of the car. He closes the door and tosses his keys to a valet. _When did he appear?_ I guess this _is _a suave, posh restaurant because only the swanky ones have a valet.

He smirks and leads up to the restaurant. He holds open the door and leads me to the service booth.

"Do you have reservations?" The hostess looks down at her book.

_How rude!_

Edward clears his throat. "I prefer to talk to a face rather than the top of someone's head when they are speaking to me."

The hostess looks up, seemingly angry until she notices Edward and then she has the decency to flush.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Cullen. We've been extremely busy today and —"

"That's no excuse!"

She shifts uncomfortably and I nudge Edward gently. He looks down at me, his eyes glimmering with anger until he catches my look.

"Leave it, please."

He turns back to the hostess. "We have a table reservation for two. I hope you've got that right."

I blush in embarrassment at Edward's behaviour this time. How can he act in such a way? We're here on a date and he's behaving like an ass.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen-n-n. Umm … right this way." She scurries off quickly, looking like she's been thoroughly chastised, her head bowed and cheeks flushed pink.

He's probably scared the poor girl into thinking she'll be dinner if she doesn't behave. _Oh no!_ _Edward wouldn't get somebody to eat her would he?_ _He_would have done something like that, and for much less. He'd have done it for a look the wrong way, or a crossing before him. He thought everybody should bow to his commands, despite his small stature. I pull my thoughts away from him; I don't want him to put a damper on our date.

"Edward." I yank on his arm.

He turns to me, his lips in a tight smile. "Yes, Isabella?"

"You're not going to have her eaten are you?"

His eyes widen in astonishment. "Of course not!" He breaks out into laughter and I join in feeling embarrassed at my preposterous thought.

"You amuse me greatly, Isabella. However, I hate to think you have such a poor view of me." He pulls my closer and places a gently kiss against my forehead. I tense and then relax. Edward seems so open in his affections and it's not something I feel quite comfortable with yet, but I allow him the moment. After all, we're on a date.

The hostess leads us through the tables in the restaurant and we gain a lot of looks, whispers and sly eyeing of Edward. If I were any "normal" woman I'd have been sure to shout out he's mine, but he's not. However that doesn't mean, however, I feel comfortable having other women eye him like a piece of meat while he's on a date with me.

We're led all the way through the small restaurant to an empty section near the back. Our table is secluded in its own booth with big red high backs. It's private and hopefully that means Edward and I can have a proper date without anybody screaming at him for an autograph. So far, people have only gawked and whispered; he's had no requests for photos, autographs or such things like I'd expect.

"This is your table. Is everything to your standard, Sir?"

"Satisfactory, yes. Excellent, no." He looked with disdain at the table but quickly pulled a chair out for me and tucked it under before taking his own seat.

He rattled off an order for a bottle of wine and a glass of blood — I think it was blood, some kind of animal blood. Yes, they even have stocks of blood in restaurants for the vampires. I guess when one wines and dines a human there has to be food for the vampires.

"Edward, I'm not old enough to drink." I shift in my seat, and move around the cutlery. It's what people seem to do when they sit. I do it as a nervous habit; I don't like to sit still for too long.

He looks up at me over his clasped hands an intense gaze covering his face. "It's a glass of wine, Isabella, surely you would not object to one. I can allow that for you to enjoy yourself."

Allow that? I refrain from mentioning it because the start of our date is meant to be happy. I try to brush aside his treatment of the hostess. We're here to get to know each other and have a fun-filled evening. It would be far easier if he made an effort to get along with me.

"Sure." I smile, and he drops that "I'm going to melt into a puddle" smile.

A waiter appears at our table to hand us two menus. He looks me over closely and smirks. "If there is anything else I can get you, let me know!"

"Excuse me, she's here with me. She's mine, and she doesn't need you pawing over her. I request another server, and make sure it's a waitress."

I blink and look at Edward, who is growling. If I were that boy I'd be pretty scared because he looks like he's going to pounce and pummel him to the ground—or maybe eat him?

He scrambles off and actually trips over a chair meaning he lands face first on the floor. Edward laughs, so I give him a good kick beneath the table.

"Are you purposely trying to ruin our date?"

"I'm sorry."

I can't take his behaviour any longer. It's giving me whiplash. "First, you are exceptionally rude to the hostess. Second, you send that poor boy running. Third, you're a general ass. What's going to be next? I might as well leave now and be done with your childish, possessive behaviour."

He takes my hand in both of his and holds my gaze. He looks genuinely concerned. "Don't leave, I want you to stay. I'm sorry. It's hard to change my ways, I'm so used to people —"

"Falling at your feet?"

He smirks. "Not quite, but yes. So sometimes I forget about those around me. Can we start over?"

"Yes, but please, tone down your 'I'm the mighty, over-arrogant Lord' attitude."

He laughs. "I can do that for you." He leans closer, his cool, minty breathe fanning out across me. He smells so delicious, like apple blossom, freshly baked bread and warmed fudge. It's a homely smell. I unconsciously find myself drifting closer to him, caught up in his stare.

I sigh softly as his thumb strokes across the skin on my hand.

"Your drinks, Sir."

We break from our little bubble at the interruption of the server. I pull away and slide back into my seat. I notice it's a woman this time, and she pours me a glass of wine before handing Edward his glass of blood. I'm glad it's in a golden cup, which I can't see through. That way I can pretend he's drinking wine like me.

"Did I tell you that you look divine tonight, Isabella?"

"You did." My calling single of a blush covers my cheeks.

"I love it when you blush."

It's probably my blood enticing him more.

"It's not because of your blood, Bella."

"Are you reading my mind?"

"No, but it's written all over your face. You are like an open book, Bella."

"So why do you like my blush?"

"Because it makes you look even more beautiful than usual."

I duck my head and hide my face in my hair.

"Don't hide from me, Bella. Tell me about yourself."

I look up, feeling rather meek and confused. Edward isn't behaving like the over-bearing ass he's been every time he's been around, and it's making me unsure of how to act. "What do you want to know?"

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Really?"

"Yes."

I consider it for a moment. "Green."

"Why?"

"It represents the outdoors, fresh-air and freedom."

He smiles, indulging me.

"What's your favourite film?"

"Star Wars."

"'Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering'."

"You're quoting Yoda?" I laugh. It feels good to laugh.

"Yes. I'm quoting Yoda."

"He's my favourite character—along with Chewbacca."

He smirks. "Not Luke Skywalker?"

"He's overrated."

"Like me?"

I avert my eyes. How do I answer such a loaded question?

Edward seems to sense I'm uncomfortable with the question and steers our conversation in a different direction.

"What's your favourite type of food?"

"Anything that contains mushrooms, and I love Italian."

He wrinkles his nose.

"I take it you don't ever eat?"

"No, never."

"Isn't that strange?"

"Not really, the food smells so disgusting. I guess you could compare it to eating dirt."

I laugh and scrunch up my nose. "Ew."

"You've tried dirt?" He looks shocked.

"It was a dare! I was five!"

We both break into laughter. His is a deep throaty chuckle from deep within, and it makes a warm tingle of excitement rush through my body. I feel content.

"Hmm … I can't believe you've actually eaten dirt."

I stare indignantly at him. "Most people do something stupid in their life, whether they eat dirt swallow a bead, or eat some wriggly little worm."

He laughs again. "I don't think most people do anything like that. You're special, Bella."

I mock glare at him, and he slides his hand across the table to take my chin gently in his hand. "I really like you. I think you're an amazing woman."

"You barely know me, and to be honest, you aren't really offering me anything that says you're good for me."

His lips mash up in a frown. "That impression is something I need to change, but don't doubt that I know you."

"Tell me."

"Your real friends are Angela and Jacob who you've known since childhood. You pull away from anyone else when you think they get to close. I know you've suffered extreme pain in your life, and it's moulded you into the woman you are today. You have a giving nature. You are not afraid to stand up for what you believe or who you believe in. That means you particularly like calling me names and changing my ways."

When I give him a rather dower look he quickly moves on.

"You don't fall into stereotypical categories like many people your age, and you make your life your own. You're beautiful. Beyond beautiful." He pauses for a moment holding my eyes, and smiles slowly.

"You don't own a TV, but have a secret love for science-fiction movies and everything I've stared in." He gives me a cheeky smile and I gently push at his hand, but he holds firm.

"We have the same favourite colour, which used to be my eye colour before I was changed." He goes on, undeterred by my glaring.

"Your favourite film is Star Wars and you love Yoda and Chewbacca. You're majoring in English Literature and you aspire to be a writer. Italian is your favourite food, but anything with mushrooms will suffice. I've heard you quite like Emmett, but you'd never admit to liking a vampire. You're not quite sure how you feel about Ben yet because he's dating your best friend, and you're worried she'll get hurt. Jacob has made you angry because he's hiding something, and you hate secrets. I severely disturb you because I've invaded your life, and you're battling the extreme attraction you feel for me." He has the audacity to wink at me.

I stare, flabbergasted. "Have you been routing in my mind again?"

"I've told you, Bella, I can't get into your mind. I hear odd, errant, extremely loud thoughts, but that's it."

"How did you know all that?"

"So I'm right?"

I don't answer him. Saying he's right would be admitting to the fact I care for him. Do I care for him? Not yet, but when he shows his cheeky side that's almost likeable it's hard to say I'd never like him, no matter how much I want to hate him.

I stop the sigh of frustration escaping me and bring my hand to slowly pull away Edward's hand from my chin. I don't let it go though. We stay joined by our hands and I toy with his fingers which allows me to avoid his gaze.

"I don't know."

"I think you do, Bella."

"Why are you always trying to push me?"

"Since I care about you. You need people to push you and we're here for you to lean on. I mean it!" His eyebrows furrow in concern and we're interrupted before he can slide the hand he's bringing up across the table to clutch my hand.

"Are you ready to order?" The waitress taps her pen against the small pad of paper impatiently.

I turn with annoyance to the new waitress who has come to take our meal orders — or should I say mine because Edward doesn't eat. Why the service staff chose the most inopportune moments to invade on Edward's and my conversation, I couldn't say, but it's highly aggravating.

"Bella, what would you like?"

I quickly scan across the menu I've not even looked at before. Damn, so much to choose from. I rattle off something with mushrooms in it and slide the menu towards her, while trying to catch Edward's eye, who seems steadfast on ignoring me.

"Is that everything, Sir?"

"Yes."

Edward finally makes eye contact with me, and he has a big — rather fake — smile spread across his face. "Where were we, love?"

"You were about to explain to me why you always push."

"Really, Isabella, do we have to do this now?" He sounds exasperated.

"Yes."

"Because I-I l-care for you."

He's been an arrogant ass to me since we met, and he chooses this moment to spout out that he cares for me?

"Why don't we talk about you, seen as though you know so much about me?"

"Sure. What would you care to know, Bella?"

"What's your favourite film?"

"Can it be one I stared in?" He has that cheeky smile, so I know he's joking, but I shake my head anyway.

"Hmm … I don't know. I've watched too many over the years."

"No fair."

"You can't argue with me when I've been alive for over a hundred years regarding what my favourite film is."

"I guess not. Favourite type of music?"

"Classical."

"Composer?"

"Claude Debussy."

"Very nice."

"You know his work?"

"Clair de Lune. Arabesque. Reverie."

He smiles slowly. "Do you like classical?"

"It's nice to relax to, but I wouldn't class it as my favourite."

"What is your favourite?"

"I thought we were talking about you?"

He shrugs his shoulders.

"Rock, rock-pop or indie."

"I've got myself a punk-chick."

I laugh. "Do you have any kind of family, or is that a stupid question?"

"My blood relatives are long dead if that's what you mean, but I have my adoptive parents, my brother Emmett, and my sister Alice, they both have partners, Rosalie and Jasper, so we're like one big happy family."

"Adoptive parents?"

"Yes. Carlisle turned me, and he's become my father figure over the decades. Then there is Esme, she's wonderful woman and I couldn't ask for a more motherly figure. They'll love you."

"You want me to meet them?" I gulp. Meet a whole coven of vampires.

"In time, of course."

I nod my head slowly. "Do you enjoy acting?"

His eyes glaze over slightly and he seems to transport himself somewhere else. "I guess you could say I do. It's not my love, but I enjoy the stage, the draw of Hollywood."

"What is your love?"

His face is practically glowing; he looks radiant as he recalls his love. "Music. I love to perform my music. I play the piano, did you know?"

"I did."

"Have you been cyber-stalking me, Miss Swan?" He breaks out of his little "moment" to give me a mischievous smile.

"No." My skin betrays me, and he knows it because his eyes sparkle and he looks so alive.

"You have!" He accuses me playfully.

"I guess I had to know who my stalker was." I duck my head bashfully

"Don't hide, Bella. I like that you stalked me."

"You do?" I look at him quizzically.

"Yes, because it shows that you're interested in me." His thumb strokes across my hand slowly, and I realise we're still holding hands. I didn't even comprehend we were. It's shocking to understand how comfortable I've become with Edward.

"Bella."

"Yes, Edward?"

"If I tell you something, promise not to flee in fright."

"Okay."

"Say it."

"I promise." I eye him warily.

"I want you to know that it's not just the mating that's making me say this, but I really, really like you, Isabella, and I might be falling for you."

He's falling for me? I know in any soppy romance movie, the audience would be "awwwing" at this moment, and the girl would swoon with love for the man before her, but this is real life. No audience "awwws," and I don't swoon. I sit there like a statue and glance at Edward in a state of astonishment. I promised I wouldn't run, so I can't get up and leave, but how can he say that? He barely knows me.

"It's been all of a day!"

"Bella, it's been three weeks."

"Being reasonable and realistic, you weren't even here."

"Our relationship is neither reasonable nor realistic, so that shouldn't be considered. I like you, and you're starting to like me, I will never leave you, hurt you or cheat on you. What else is there to consider?"

I pull my hand from his grip which had tightened minutely before releasing me. Does it matter that our relationship is not reasonable or realistic? It doesn't mean he has to jump in straight away with "I'm falling for you".

"I'm not sure about this, Edward, give me time. I'm not sure I even like you yet."

"You have time, Bella. I want you to know how I feel. What I feel for you. I want you to never to forget that."

"What if I can't feel back?"

"You know I don't believe that, Bella."

"Madam, your dinner is ready." The waitress once again interrupts Edward and me.

I realise how close we've come in our argument, both of us leaning across the table practically nose to nose. His scent surrounds me in the air and I breathe it in headily. It's like nothing I've ever smelled before. The taste of him on the end of my tongue sets my body alight with arousal and need for him. I jolt back into my chair in disbelief. _What the hell? _

I watch as Edward inhales deeply and his eyes instantly change from topaz to onyx black. I feel frozen as the waitress places the dish before me and tries to capture Edward's and my attention again without success, before she wanders away. His eyes hold mine in a fierce, heated gaze that is impossible to break.

He looks predatory and feral as he sits opposite me. I shiver. It's hard to differentiate between his pupil and iris because they're both black, but I can feel his eyes raking over my body. The blood rushes to the surface in my body and calls to him. I feel incredibly hot and I shift in my seat to no avail in removing his fiery stare from me. My body is like a furnace with the fire running through my veins; every nerve is tingling in excitement for what is to come. How can I react like this to him when I don't even like him?

"Edwa —"

"Shhhh." He's leans over the table and places a finger over my lips to prevent my speech before I can blink. He never breaks eye contact, and he's so very close to me.

His scent on my tongue is like a tangy spice. My body craves his touch, despite the little voice at the back of my mind that's screaming at me to pull away, slap him, do anything. She's banging on the confines of my head — the very small space that I've relegated her to — to move away.

His finger slips from my lips and trails down my throat. I reveal in how the soft pad of his finger is as it brushes against my skin in a delicate caress. It comes to rest against my collar bone, where he draws gentle circles on the skin there.

"You look practically edible, Isabella."

I watch his lips move as he speaks. His tongue rolls across his teeth, and flicks the back of them as he says my name. It's pink, and thick, with a pointy head. It looks so muscular … his tongue. I watch as it strokes across his lower lip in a strong, masculine swipe.

The little voice at the back of my head screams. _How can a tongue swipe be masculine?_

I ignore it, and lean closer to him. His finger continues to trace patters along my collar bone. Then it moves to toy with the ends of my hair. He's so close that every breath I take in is one he's exhaled. His lips are practically brushing against my own; they tease me. _Don't let this happen! _The rational voice in my head screams at me.

His hand moves further up along to my neck, sliding beneath my hair.

"Edward."

He pulls away slightly, and breaks our spell.

"What's wrong with your neck?"

_See, I told you to stop. _The little voice in my head snipped.

_And because you're such a prophesying know-it-all, you just knew this would happen. _

I really have gone insane, talking to a voice in my head.

"Isabella, what's wrong with your neck?" Edward moves to brush away my hair, but I pull away.

"Nothing." I pat down my hair, careful to cover everything up.

"Don't lie to me."

"Then don't ask me a question I'm not going to answer."

"Eat your dinner, it's getting cold." He folds back into himself. His eyes are still dark and are watching me with interest, and disapproval. He brings his glass of blood — the thought makes me sick — to his lips and gulps it down.

I've surpassed my hunger so I eat a few bites of my food, which is delicious, before chasing the rest around my plate with my fork.

"Are you going to eat that or play with it?"

"I'm finished." I push away the plate. My stomach is upset from his souring of the evening and it's forced me into a sore mood. The date was going so well until he had to bring that up. Why did he have to touch my neck?

_Well you let things get too far. _The little voice in my head made an appearance.

_Shut up! _

It brought back the memory of that evil bloodsucking and his teeth when I think of my neck. The sickening feeling makes my stomach toss and turn.

"I need the bathroom." I abruptly stand. At any moment the contents of my stomach are going to be projected out if I don't calm myself down.

"It's over there." Edward dismisses me with a wave of his hand and I flee from the table.

I burst into the bathroom to find it empty. _Thank god!_I shut the door behind me and twist the lock. I don't want anybody coming in to find me in this state. Then I rush to the toilet and empty my stomach out. I pull back my hair to avoid getting sick in it.

Once I'm finished I slump to the floor, my body shaking from the physical exertion and the tears roll down my cheeks. Why does he, the bloodsucker, have to ruin everything? He reoccurs whenever things get happy. This is why I sent Edward away because we can never be happy. I'm haunted by him.

I pull myself up on shaky feet, and flush the toilet before I stumble out of the cubicle to the sink. I look into the mirror and I don't see my face, I see him.

His red eyes are taunting me. They're laughing at me. His lips are carved out into a smirk. His fangs peek between the lips which are covered in blood. They're drowning in blood. It's my blood. There is skin hanging from the tip of one fang, it's the smooth skin of my neck. His dark hair is flopped down covering part of his face, and its tinged red from my blood. My stomach revolts against the image, but there is nothing left to purge from my body, so I just dry heave over the sink.

"Go away!" I scream and I smash my hands against the mirror.

It cracks down the middle, and the image changes from his face to mine. My eyes are raw and red, and black streaks are covering my cheeks which are tinged pink and aching from the flow of tears. My hair looks dishevelled and my skin is pale. I look like death reincarnated.

I start running the tap to clean up my face and I realise my hand is covered in blood. I've cut open the side from smashing the mirror. I run it beneath the tap and watch my blood swirl around the basin and down the drain.

When the water runs clear I bring some up to splash on my face and remove the dirty, black smears on my face.

"Bella! Isabella! Are you in there?" Edward raps on the door and I panic.

"I'm f-fine." _He happens to be oh-so concerned about my welfare now, doesn't he? Wasn't worried when you were running away from the table to heave your guts up?_

"You don't sound it." The door rattles as he tries to get in. "Isabella, open this door right now!"

It rattles again. It's not like he can't take the door out if he wants too. It gives me a chance to spruce myself up. My eyes are still a little red around the rims, my hair is dishevelled, but I look more presentable.

"Isabella, open the door!" He sounds like one of those parents who is scolding their child for running off.

I huff, but make no move to open the door. He can break it down if he wants to get in, I don't care.

"Have you been sick?"

_Busted. _The little voice in my head quipped.

_Oh for the love of God, will you shut up and leave me alone! _

"Isabella, I'm not going to leave you alone."

_Oh dear, see what you've done now. I told you talking to yourself would come to no good. _The little me looks smugly on with her hands on her hips. When have I ever looked like that? I really need to stop talking to myself, who knows what kind of trouble I'll get myself into.

"You have until the count of three to open this door. I'm counting, Isabella. One …"

I frown. _He's even counting down for you like parents do to their children. _

I refrain from yelling at the mini-me that's invaded the walls of my mind. I know he's treating me like a child, and I don't need anybody to point it out. Until he starts to treat me like an adult, we will never reach equal footing.

"Two, Isabella."

I watch the door, awaiting Edward breaking it down.

"Three." He sounds incredibly strained.

_Boom! _

The door flings backwards and falls off the hinges with a clatter. The loose hinge squeaks and creaks as it swings about, before dropping with a clang after the door.

Edward stands in all his glory in the doorway. His eyes are dark and his body is strung tight.

"Don't. Ever. Shut. Me. Out. Again."

_Oh, get him. I can't wait to see this. I give it a maximum of a twenty-four hours before you shut him out somewhere else._

I nod my head dumbly.

"Are you going to behave like an adult and talk to me?"

"Me behave like an adult? You just broke down a door."

"You wouldn't open it."

"You'll have to pay for it."

He waves it off. "Cost is no worry."

My thoughts drift to all the money I'd spent at Jimmy Choo earlier and he's not even mention it. I guess the money is just a tiny blip on his radar.

"I can see money is no problem."

His brow furrows and he takes a few steps toward me. I take one back instinctively and hit the sink.

"What is that meant to mean, Isabella?"

"Noth-h-hing, just that I spent your money in Jimmy Choo and you h-haven't seemed to …" I stop talking as I watch his expression, and realise I've just admitted to spending his money.

I wait for the verbal assault, the tirade of expletives, I even await the strike to bring me to bring me down as I cringe into the sink. When it doesn't come I peak a look at Edward who is staring at me in horror.

"Do you think I would strike you, Bella?"

I don't answer. How can I? Surely I have been disrespectful to his hard work by wasting his money?

He rushes towards me and I have to force myself not to flinch. In my current state of mind everything is going back to him — the controlling, demon-freak who looked like a child. I am sinking back to the same mind-frame and his expectations of me. I'm expecting the same reactions.

That's my problem, not being able to separate Edward and him as two different entities. They behave so different but they share a common place ground that I cannot, and refuse to ignore, they are both vampire.

"I would never strike you. If it ever came to that, I would take myself before the Volturi and demand retribution on myself for the actions I have committed against you. I swear it, Isabella!"

He takes my hands slowly and brings them up to his face where he kisses the overturned palms.

"You are the most precious and important person in the world to me. You're priceless, my darling Isabella."

I fling myself into his arms and wrap my arms around his neck. I'm clutching onto him for dear life because I'm scared. My body shakes from the intensity of the vision and I need somebody to comfort me.

He seems shocked at first by my behaviour. He's not the only one, but when I'm craving the physical comfort of another to chase away the bad memories of him, and if Edward is the way in which I can do that, I will take anything to feel a moment of reprieve.

Edward carefully brings his own arms up to move around me, and he wraps them around my waist. This draws me flush to his chest and the cold from him melts into my body. Instead of the revulsion and reminder I would feel from the memory of him, Edward's scent keeps me grounded and central.

My body is already cold and covered in goose bumps so Edward's coolness does little to warm my body temperature.

"We shall clean you up, and then you can go eat the dessert I have ordered you." His eyes softened and he tilted his head slightly before he said, "It's chocolate-fudge brownie cake." His voice rose to a sickly, sweet tone as he attempted to entice me back with sugary sweet goodness.

He slips his arms from me for a moment and I feel bereft. It's only for a moment while he pulls of his jacket and wraps me up in it. He obviously sensed by shivering and the tender movement touches me. I would even go as far to say it holds it together in this moment. Nobody has ever done anything like that for me.

This allows me to break Edward away from the evilness of him, and bring him into a new light where I might just see him clearly. I'm not going to put him on a pedestal or expect the world, never mind fall in love, but I think this is a defining point for me in realising that maybe not everyone is like him.

I tilt my head back to view Edward's face clearly. He is beaming down at me with a smile that looks like it will split his face in two.

"It sounds entirely un-healthy."

"That is the point Bella. I am apologising for my brutish behaviour. It seems I have an awful lot to make up for since I have not started out on the best footing." He laughs through his nose and his bronze locks fall forward across his face. It covers his golden eyes, but it doesn't hide the troubled look I see. He is concerned for me, but I can't allow that to touch our moment.

"I guess I can stretch myself to some delicious, chocolate dessert."

"You will because you hardly ate any dinner!"

"You're getting back to Mr. Demanding!"

"I'm sorry! I really can't help it because it's in my nature."

"Well you've got a very bossy nature!"

He fakes hurt. "You have wounded me deeply. I merely like to be in control of the situation."

"Sure you do." I giggle and snuggle deeper into his jacket where I'm surrounded by his scent. His beautiful, intoxicating scent.

He rocks us back and forth, side to side while I still cling to him. The motion is soothing and peaceful. His nose nuzzles my hair gently and he sighs ever so quietly. For the first time in over five years, I feel content somewhere. I feel like we fit.

Maybe there could be hope for Edward and me after all. That is … if he changes his behaviour. Who knows, this is one date after all.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: Twilight characters do not belong to me.<strong>

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><p>Thank you to my beta, Her Mighty Ubergeekness, and my pre-reader, VoltActionSniper<p>

Sorry this update has taken so long, I have no excuse other than RL. My writing time has severely been depleted. However I am endeavouring to keep writing and posting. This story WILL BE complete, do no doubt that.

If you haven't had enough of me or you fancy reading more, I have a one-shot of Bella/Edward posted 'A Position of Poverty' to keep you entertained and I'm working on a lovely little quick post drabble fic for Edward/Bella.

I love you guys for all your wonderful support and concern. It means a lot to me. I dedicate this chapter to my wonderful readers.

~Nerdette

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><p><strong>Story Recs:<strong>

Red Kryptonite by Saritadreaming Bella/Edward (AU.)

A Getty Romance by rinabina Bella/Edward (AH.)

Between the Soil & the Sky by NimC Bella/Edward (AH.)

Shades of Grey by writtenbyabdex Bella/Edward (AH.)


	9. Unveiled Truths

***Sorry forgot the first time* Recap: **The world basics are that Vampires rule but they do it quietly. They can take people's blood and if you are caught out at night, you'll most likely be a blood bag. They are the secret mafia in all the big ruling jobs. Although many vampires have human mates as they can procreate with their mates and are very possessive creatures. Bella works in a library and her boss is a vampire because all vampires have the higher up jobs in society. Her best friends are Angela and Jake. She also has a little boy Riley in her life who means the world to her. She's had a horrible nightmare about his death at the hands of Edward.

Edward is a movie star vampire (one of his many jobs) and he met Bella in the library where he was immediately enamoured. He behaves like a cave man and has warned James of certain death (pretty much) if he touches her. Bella freaked and she needed time, so Edward left after giving her a bracelet which quite a bit of mystery surrounds. She is with Riley at the home for children he lives in when two vampires appear, and Emmett manages to turn up (Edward's brother) as he's been watching her to save the day and warn her what she's doing to his brother.

When Edward returns when Bella goes 'crazy' and talks to the bracelet, but Jacob is there too and this causes problems. He's labelled a "mutt" by Edward but more is to come, and Bella is infuriated because of the picture of Edward with a sexy model, Tanya, but he's not actually been out much over his disappearance he's been moping. Bella has a broken toe and they talk when he takes her to hospital and they meet her friend the doctor. When they return, Bella has agreed to go on a date, having been giving Edward's credit card to buy new clothes after he dropped her off at college. Angela agrees to take her after having a big thing about her boyfriend Ben, the vampire. Bella feels slightly betrayed.

Then they go to Alice's boutique and buy a dress with Edward's money. Bella goes on the date, there is a massive freak out about her neck which is linked to some evil vampire. Edward doesn't know much about this and she ends up in the bathroom smashing a mirror and her hand. Then we have come to the crux... Oh and there is her ever loving spaniel, Sam the dog.

**Update: There has been a slight change in the name, I hope it hasn't thrown you off. It has changed from Lamarium to Lamia. **

***^* Fatum Lamia *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**

No One Does it Better - You Me At Six

Hurricane – 30 Seconds to Mars

The Air That I Breathe – Maroon 5

**~Chapter Eight~**

**Unveiled Truths**

**EPOV**

I escort Isabella through the restaurant to our table, all the while her small, sharp nails scratch against the white cotton of my shirt to leave behind streaks of her jade polish. I relish the closeness of her warm little body and I understand there is a masochist inside of me because once she breaks free from the fear that envelops her; she will push me away again.

Shivers rush through her body so I draw my jacket further around her to try and keep her warm and away from me since I know she will be feeling the coolness of my skin seeping through the thin layers of her clothes. Until we consummate our bond, sexually, her body will register mine as a foreign entity because our souls will not have connected to recognise one and other. After, her body will adapt to mine and she will no longer feel cold. I will be able to comfort her both physically and emotionally without the fear of making her ill. Our minds will be able to connect and draw us together on a deeper level. A comfort I can only yearn for. Now, that thought seems a far off fantasy.

I have to pry her fingers from my shirt by the time we reach our table because he nails are firmly embedded into my shirt. It is a good job I am a vampire otherwise I know she would have drawn blood. She looks like a forlorn little child as I guide her into her seat and it tugs at my dead heart. I draw my seat closer to hers as I sit down beside her. I want to keep as close to her as possible whilst she remains in this trance like state.

Her eyes are darting from side to side as she gnaws on her bottom lip making the skin of her bottom lip red raw. I frown and gently reach over with my thumb and forefinger to tug her lip free. Partly to prevent her from causing pain to herself and because I am not sure how far my control of my bloodlust will stretch. The cut on her palm she tried to hide from me is starting to clot, but Carlisle will need to treat and disinfect the wound first. I cannot find it in myself to be angry with Isabella whilst she is so caught up in her fear. And for once in my life, I feel content that I'm sharing time with somebody who is truly meant for me.

Pain radiates from her body and a small part of me crumbles inside knowing that I am incapable of taking away the pain. The humanity that I thought I had lost all those years ago is returning as Isabella reaches into me; dragging it out of me at an alarming rate. I had heard of other vampires changing when they mated to humans, but I never truly believed it. These emotions that are returning to me are so new and different, it is alarming and confusing. I feel so utterly disorientated, disjointed; like I do not truly connect with the world. The only thing I understand is my unending love for Isabella. Without her, I would not survive.

I find my eyes skimming over to assess her state. She seems to be taking on the role of a meerkat with the head twitches from side to side. Her silence unnerves me as I see her receding further into herself. That is what angers me.

"Isabella."

Her little body jumps at the sharp tone of my voice and I smile in satisfaction that I have finally captured her attention. When her eyes settle on me I smile slowly and calmly and try to project soothing emotions.

"You need to calm down, honey." I reach out with my hand to stroke the skin of her wrist. Beneath my thumb I can feel her fluttering pulse that feels like it is about to burst through her skin.

Tears begin to escape from the corner of her eyes and she begins to blink rapidly in a pitiful attempt to prevent them, but they only fall faster. She sobs. My foot curls around the leg of her chair and I drag it closer to me so I can take both her hands in mine and caress them in an attempt to sooth her. Hopefully she will take some comfort from my presence and this motion because although it is foreign to me, I have witnessed humans making these gestures to each other in times of emotional turmoil and distress. I have prided myself on becoming aware of the human population that I intermingle with on a daily life. It seems that whilst I do not appreciate the very humans I share the earth with; I have always considered the possibility of a human mate.

"I'm sorry, Edward-d." Her voice is raw and broken and she rubs her nose against her shoulder to hide her snuffles. I do not release her hand to allow her to wipe her nose because I cannot bear to let her go.

Before I can speak again, the young, spotty waiter arrives with the chocolate cake I had ordered as a peace offering to Isabella. I had heard human girls were partial to chocolate. Honestly it smells disgusting to me and my stomach is repulsed at the thought, but if she likes it, I will give her a lifetime supply just to get a single smile from her.

"Excuse me, Sir." His voice is squeaky and high pitched and he is blushing head to toe before he is even finished speaking.

"Just place it there." I dismiss him quickly, not wanting anybody to be ogling Isabella further and upsetting her. Despite the fact that I feel the return of my humanity I possess no sympathy for the lad, all of us after all were at some point gangly, uncoordinated teenagers who were maybe not able to articulate in front of beautiful women, but I have long ago forgotten that side of myself.

The animal within me is all that I know now; the creature, the monster. The thing that thirsts for blood of another and to drain out that blood and fulfil my body with all the nutrients the blood carries and strengthen my body further. After all, the more blood my body consumes the greater my strength and power. The only thing stopping vampires from becoming power crazed creatures is the limit of blood in which we take in until further energy has been expended. I am no longer like a human, I cannot remember humanity. There is only Isabella.

I return my attention to Isabella, who is eyeing the chocolate cake with unreserved hunger and I feel that hunger reflected within me as I see her eyes darken as she fixates on the cake. Although mine is an entirely different kind of hunger; pure undiluted lust. Her pupils contract ever so slightly that it would not be perceptible to human eyes and I shift in my seat, drawn in by her natural allure. Then her tongue peaks out from between her lips and swipes across her lower lip, slowly as though she is already savouring the taste. I let out a discernible hiss and her eyes flicker to me. They are full of this innocent and sensual sexuality that sets my body on fire without even a touch.

"Are you hungry, Isabella?" I do not feel the guilt for unleashing my charm upon her as my voice is low, husky and full of need.

She tilts her head to the side and a shy grin spreads across her face, only fleetingly but I feel like I am on top of the world because of that one innocent grin.

There are two forks laid out beside the plate and I take one in my hand and break off a small section of the cake in preparation for feeding Isabella. After all, the cake holds no nutritional value for me, and my body will only reject the contents. The chocolate cake oozes a thick, sticky sauce that drips from the fork as I raise it to Isabella's lips. She watches me like a hawk until the fork is hovering beside her lips which she parts slowly, enabling me to penetrate her mouth with the fork. Her lips wrap around the metal and slowly draw the cake into that lush mouth of hers.

I slide the fork slowly free from her mouth leaving a little residue of her salvia and chocolate sauce that makes me stir in anticipation of what her plush, red lips are capable of. Again I scoop some cake onto the fork and raise it to her lips, prompting her to open again.

"Tasty?"

Her eyes flutter shut this time as she swallows the cake and I watch as her throat constricts and relaxes.

"Mmm."

I take her moan for assent of taste and continue to absorb the sight of Isabella. Slowly she works her way through the cake with me feeding her until her hand reaches out to stop me pushing any more cake towards her.

"I'm stuffed." She smiles softly and tiredly. Her cheeks are puffy and pink and her eyes are rimmed red as she's encased in my jacket that is clearly too big for her. I am desperate to take her in my arms and hold her and never let go, but I stop the possessive beast within me.

When she moves her hand up to brush her hair I see the depth of her slice on her palm and frown. She had dismissed me in the bathroom saying it was a small cut and I did not insist because of her delicate state, but the palm looks red and raw. I thought when it was clotting that it would not be so bad, but now, I feel the fury building inside of me.

"Isabella." I cannot help the growl that escapes me along with her name.

Her eyes flicker to my face and she attempts to hide her palm.

"Don't. You. Dare." Every word feels strained. "You said it was only a scratch."

"It is." Her eyes plead with me to not cause a scene.

"I am here to take care of you, Isabella. I did not insist when you said you had a scratch because you looked so fragile, but _that _needs treating." I feel my heart jump a beat at the thought of her sick with infection.

Quickly I stand up and move to aid Isabella. "Come on, we will leave now and get you treated." I hold my arm for her to take like the gentlemen I was raised to be, hidden beneath the beast.

"Thank you." She takes my arm, her cheeks flushed. I notice a few of the other clients eyeing us with distaste, but I just pull her closer to me to shield her from prying eyes.

I guide us towards the bar where the spotty teenager is currently manning. He looks frightened when he sees me heading towards him and he rushes off into the back to bring the manager with him. The beefy, rather stout man smoothed down his hair and rushed over.

"Mr. Cullen."

"That should cover dinner." I stuff a wad of notes into his outstretched hand and he looks rather blank. Money after all to me is no matter, after all the years of earning and the investments I have made, the Cullen family is sufficiently wealthy.

"T-t-thank you."

His head is bobbing up and down and he looks terrified as I move to exit the restaurant, Bella firmly against my side.

Only when I reach the door do I realise that the paparazzi have set up camp outside. I notice that Bella becomes unsettled as soon as she notices them and I frown. They have never truly bothered me because I have always been able to escape them and I have lapped up the attention at premiers and award ceremonies as the elusive bachelor, but now Isabella is my sole focus in life. I do not want that kind of attention for her.

"I'll keep you safe." I move my arm from under hers to wrap around her shoulders and tuck her head against my side, effectively shielding her from the mob of journalists. The doorman pulls open the door and I step out into the unknown crowd of paparazzi. Cameras begin to flash immediately and puny men and bolshie women thrust microphones and scream at us.

Isabella cowers against my side and she begins to shake. Obviously the bombardment of attention after her panic attack sending her further into herself after I had just made some progress. Nobody will hurt _my mate. _

When a fat, imbecilic man steps out into our path and practically lunges at Isabella, I backhand him and he is flung into the throng of paparazzi. His body falling into the crowd causes a cascade of falling bodies as they try to catch him. I feel my fangs elongate as I growl.

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT." I roar as I cover Isabella's ears with my hand not wanting to damage her tender ears.

Some of the journalists scuttle off immediately to crawl back below the rock they had scurried from. However a few of the ones with death wishes remained and those I glared at and slipped my hand under Isabella's behind to scoop her into my arms so I could storm through the crowd. They scattered around me, but I could feel several of them snapping photos and following behind me. The anger within me was ready to burst out and I knew if Isabella was not in my arms my actions would not be within the limits of approachable or friendly.

Isabella is quivering by the time I reach the car which I unlock and open her door before sliding her in and buckling her up. Once I am sure she is secure I pull a blanket from the back and cover her in it. She remains quiet the whole time as my anger simmers beneath the surface.

"Edward."

My eyes flicker over to her and I pause.

"Don't hurt them."

It feels like somebody has chucked a bucket of cold water over me as I stop and freeze. I still do not feel capable of talking but I nod my head and settle for planting a brief kiss on Isabella's forehead breathing in her scent so she will be firmly in my mind when I approach the paparazzi.

I have always been amenable to the paparazzi and polite, but this time they have stepped rather unwittingly probably for a few onto a minefield. Those men and women are truly parasitic creatures with not a thought for the true emotions of people, even vampires. They prey on the weak and the vulnerable.

From afar I see the huddle of those deplorable, scrounging little people over the far side of the car park and I begin to stalk across towards them. Every step, every pounding of my foot into car park concrete the anger simmers and bubbles beneath the surface. Only the concerned face of Isabella playing through my brain keeps me from roaring out in anger.

"MR CULLEN. MR CULLEN."

Those vermin have obviously caught sight of my return as they begin to bellow my name. I feel my eardrums shiver at the volume and I smile, revealing my teeth. A smile never meant to put somebody at ease, but to display in every inch of it that I am a predator and they are the prey.

A few of them seem to have disintegrated or scuttled back to their hideaway in the past few moments and upon my reappearance several more slink away. However the most obstinate of the vermin remain, with cameras and recorders to capture any snippet they can get.

In the corner of my eye, a camera flashes in my face and I reach out and crush the insignificant flashing object into smithereens, so no photographic evidence will ever be recalled of me. The man holding the camera visibly pales, but the woman accompanying him seems unfazed by this action.

"Mr. Cullen, is this a hidden side to you the press haven't seen before, this unrestrained anger?"

My eyes fall on the woman pushing the question and I feel bemused by the question. The silver and black shiny recorder she clutches in her hand catches my attention as being rather expensive. I smirk as I lean forward taking the recorder from her puny hand as she attempts to keep hold. Then I bend to whisper against her ear.

"I would like you to remember. I am a vampire; a hunter, a predator. Taking your pretty little neck between my hands and sinking my fangs in and draining every inch of your blood would satisfy the inner beast. Doing that before this crowd would not make any difference to me." I inhale deeply for effect. "Neither would hunting down your family, appearing in your house and enjoying _dinner _with them affect my sensibility. So please, pry further into my life, but I warn you. I do not play fickle human games. I play to win, to fulfil my every hunger. And be warned, I always win and I never play fair." I snap my teeth together as I crush her recorder, not quite into dust, but mangled enough that she will never gain evidence after removing the card.

I place the recorder into her hand and crush it into her hand, enjoying as she winches in pain. Then I take the small memory card and snap it between my teeth, showing how easily it breaks.

Only when I step away does she keel over and have to be helped by her fellow vermin to stand back up. I smirk in delight, relishing the release of the beast within.

"Everybody present, I warn you that whilst I have been courteous to the press before now. I will no longer appreciate this infringement on my personal privacy or that of anybody within my company."

I prevent the word 'mate' escaping my lips by only a fraction because I know that Isabella would be appalled to display our relationship just yet. And a small part of me wants to sing it to the world when there is evidence to show that I have undoubtedly claimed Isabella for my own.

In contentment now with my small display, I pivot on my heels and glide back to Isabella in the car, not wanting to delay my return to her any longer. Every molecule of my being yearns to be back in her presence and filling my nostrils with her scent.

I yank open the door to the car a little too forcefully making Isabella jump and I immediately regret my behaviour. Gently, with more care I slide into the car slowly so not to cause any more discontent to Isabella and I try to let go of my anger as I do not desire projecting it onto Isabella.

The regret that fills me at the direction our date has taken cannot be helped as I start the ignition on the car and reverse us out of the parking spot, before quickly spinning us in the opposite direction of the media group who still have not disbanded completely. I will be happy when I can get onto the freeway back to my house where I can push the car away from here as quickly as possible. This is not quite the first date I imagined with my mate, I expected more romance, intimacy and connecting than this car crash of events that have occurred tonight. Inside I hope this will not be a reflection of our relationship to come.

"Isabella." Her name rolls from my tongue like a caress.

Her head slowly turns so she can see me and her eyes are wary and watery. I feel my insides churn because I have so clearly upset her and my mind begins to spin to how I can work things back to my advantage. It would not surprise me if she wanted to run to the other side of the world after the date we have just had when I let her out of the car. My hand immediately moves to lock the doors on the car, the inner beast beside me clearly not allowing that thought to turn into reality.

"Yes, Edward-d."

"I am truly sorry about the events of this evening."

Her head droops down and her hair forms a shield from my eyes. "I want to go home now."

I grind my teeth together in agitation.

"Of course, honey." I do not tell her that I have no intention of letting her go now that she is here with me. Not only will the beast inside me that demands our mating not quite allow it, but that cut on her palm needs to be sufficiently treated and right at this moment I know that I will only allow Carlisle close to her.

I push the car faster as I turn onto the highway and turn up the heater, whilst lowering the music to a lull. Part of me hopes that I'll be able to make her drowsy enough to sleep and thereby transporting her to my house with more compliancy as fighting will not serve to make her better. I know the deception from me is not truly acceptable, but I am a species known for dishonesty so she should not truly be surprised. We are a crafty species.

My head rests back against the head rest, not really needing it, but just a habit I have picked up after the years of exhaustive driving. I allow my body to feel the thrum of the engine and absorb the warm scent of Isabella that surrounds me and seeps into my cold body, making me feel warm for the first time in a very long time.

Slowly I see in my peripheral vision, Isabella's eyes drooping down and closing as she tries to fight it off. It seems the events of this evening have truly exhausted her. A slow, winning smile crosses my face as the realisation that again I am winning crosses my mind. The words I spoke to the vile vermin outside the restaurant were in every essence honest and my determination would never allow me to fail. Isabella will be mine.

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><p>The car cruises to a halt outside my drive as I wait for the cameras to register my car. It takes merely seconds and I am back on the gas, pushing the car forward to the driveway. Not wanting to jostle Isabella awake with the starting and stopping motion of the car. Although it seems she has fallen into a deep sleep as her chest rises and falls and she makes little sighs, mewling noises and whimpers. Her restless sleep disturbs me to the core and I hope that she will settle down from this state sooner.<p>

The large white oak door is flung open as the car comes to a stop inches from the porch of my property. Out steps Alice bouncing and looking cross and she is closely followed by Carlisle. In times like this I am thankful for my psychic sister meaning I did not have to alert Carlisle through the phone to Isabella's state or Isabella in the process by using the phone.

I switch of the engine and carefully step out the car, closing the door softly so not to wake Isabella.

"Edward." Alice's tone holds quite a lot of disapproval, but I cannot find it in myself to care.

"Yes."

"She's not going to be happy."

"She will be safe." Her safety is of the utmost importance, especially after the paparazzi scandal. I did not want the thought that one of them may have followed me to her home.

Carlisle stands motionless on the white marble of the porch, his arms crossed in a casual stance and his thoughts elude me to his true feelings as he recites some medical jargon that holds little interest to me.

A startled sound alerts me to the fact that Isabella has woken up. I quickly turn to the car to see her confusion that slowly fades to anger.

She sits up in the car after her sleep had left to her slouching and her hair is wild and untamed, but she looks so beautiful. I move around to open the door on her side, and she remains seated in the car.

"I want to go home."

"You are."

"My home."

I frown at her. "It is not safe, Isabella."

"I don't care, this is not my home."

"Get out of the car, your palms needs treating."

"Don't treat me like a child, Edward!"

"Do not behave as a pre-adolescent then."

She remains stuck in the car under her blanket, so I quickly remove it, unbuckle her seatbelt and lift her from the car. She makes a sound of protest, but there is little she can do. I set her on her feet and lock the car.

"Would you like to walk in or shall I carry you?"

"There is no need to act like a troglodyte."

My sister giggles, alerting Isabella to her presence.

"You."

I frown, confused. "You two are acquainted?"

"She came to my store."

"B-but you must have known!" Isabella began to flap her arms and turned to me.

I glared at my sister. "You are clearly distressing her."

"I'm sorry. I didn't really know how to break it that I'm your sister."

Isabella was looking at her like she had three heads, but when I moved to comfort her she pushed me away. I was sad at the fact I had lost my opportunity to comfort Isabella, but I knew it would not last. And I would prefer that she was safe and hate me than love me and be in danger at any moment.

"It's okay. Crazy world." Isabella sighed, rather dejectedly. Alice looked a little lost for a moment, before I interjected again.

"This is Carlisle; he will treat your hand."

Carlisle moved slowly from his stance on the porch and Isabella's eyes tracked his movement. He raised his hands in surrender and waited for him to venture.

"I promise not to hurt you. I am a doctor. My only concern is your welfare."

She eyed Alice, turned to me and back to Carlisle. Alice smiled encouragingly whilst Carlisle waited with the patience he had built over the hundreds of years he had been alive. Slowly Isabella seemed to relax a little and made her way towards Carlisle.

Alice immediately latched onto her arm to support her. Although the bouncing about was not good for Isabella. I growled.

Alice turned to me, disapprovingly.

"Stop jostling her."

She only stuck her tongue out in return before leading Isabella into the house, filling her head with inane chatter of how they could be best friends and probably her plans to treat Isabella like a Barbie doll. A new outfit every moment she steps out of the house. Alice will be in her absolute element.

I trail along behind them all feeling rather dejected and alone.

* * *

><p>When I enter the house, Carlisle had already rushed Isabella off to the kitchen to examine her injuries and Alice had barred me from entering. It perturbed me to start and angered the beast that Isabella was alone with another man, but I knew Carlisle would not allow me to be in the room. He always seems to keep a steady head even when I cannot. Unfortunate, but the truth and this is why he remains the adoptive father figure throughout my long life and I was his 'son' who he would 'guide'.<p>

It was clear to me that Carlisle also wanted to asses her mental state as well since he exited the kitchen after a few moments sensing my agitation at being shut out to discuss her current state with me. He had said that it was nothing serious, but she had clearly been exhausting herself and her brain was struggling to cope with all this information being bombarded upon her and that she needed time. The palm would need to be treated and stitched, but he would take care of that and I did not doubt his ability.

Although I did not have to like the fact, I knew I would not be getting to see Isabella for quite some time, so I prowl through to the living room where I sit down in the middle of the couch. I start to twist my cufflinks around before removing them and throwing them onto the glass table, they bounce and clatter nosily, scratching the surface and leaving a trail of small cracks to show their path.

"Look now, Edward. I'll have to get you a new table." Alice moans as she enters the living room after me, looking at the scratched and cracked table. Hardly recognisable to eyes other than those of a vampire.

"Not like you find that a chore."

After all, my sister is a Class A shop-a-holic and she enjoys nothing more than renovating the houses we own. We put up with the constant clothes changing and never being able to wear something more than once, but I fear such constant re-decoration would drive me back into a hideout. I am also positive that one of us would kill her before we reached that stage too. And Esme likes to take control of redecoration at the larger end, meaning Alice only gets the joys of replacement objects. So I can hardly see why the change of table would be such a problem to her.

"That's beside the point. You can't just break something because you're angry."

I look at her like she is far from sane. She has never been one to preach and breaking things when I have become angry has become a coping mechanism. I clench my hands into fists and slam them down on the glass table.

The cracks immediately run further along the table, meeting up with new cracks until they reach the edge and the whole glass table shatters and collapses in on itself falling to the floor.

"Opps."

I slouch into the couch and stare at the ceiling. I am not sure what overcame me in that moment to shatter my glass table. It was clearly a childish action and I am positive that I have never done this before. Isabella has clearly changed me in ways I cannot quite define yet.

"Child."

I twist my head back around to see Alice staring in the opposite direction.

"Freak."

"Jerk."

"Pixie."

"Troglodyte." Alice is unable to hold back the snort that escapes her.

I find my mind drifting to Isabella. Despite her insulting me, I find it endearing.

"Prude."

I wrinkle my nose at that insult. Alice and Jasper are always loud and it is not my fault, I found it distasteful.

"Pervert."

"Beef-witted clotpole."

"Crusty botch of nature."

Alice begins to full on giggle as our decrepit insults that are way before even our time begin to occur and I cannot help but laugh too. The tension that seemed to have built up in my body drains from my pores and I allow the laugh to truly take over. It seems a long time that I laughed with my sister like this. My family have been estranged from my life through my own fault, but I have certainly longed for them in my detachment, only now realising how much so.

Carlisle chooses that moment to enter, raising an eyebrow at the antics of both mine and Alice's behaviour. I wave my hand to dismiss his query over both the table and our laughter.

"I have cleansed and stitched Bella's wound, but I require a few more moments to discuss with her, some other issues."

My lips twist down in distaste. What else is there to discuss? And why is he calling her name Bella?

"Can I see her first? And her name is Isabella."

"I am perfectly aware, Edward. However she informed me that I could call her Bella. And no, she still requires a few moments."

I stand quickly, not taking any excuse. "I need to talk to her." I prowl past Carlisle towards the kitchen. I knock on the door, not having lost all of my senses.

"Isabella."

There is no answer. I bang again, louder.

"Isabella, you cannot ignore me!"

"Edward." Carlisle's soothing voice came from behind, but I ignore him.

"Isabella, I do not desire to barge in against your wishes, but this is childish. Or maybe I should call you Bella?" This time my banging is more like a hammering against the door.

"Childish, Edward? So is lying to me and behaving like I am inferior to you. And you have not earned the right!" Her voice sounds small and watery from the other side of the door.

I froze. Inferior? I never believed she was inferior to me. And earned the right? I felt sick to my stomach, I had tried everything to please her.

"I am only putting your best interests to the forefront of everything."

"By bringing me here? I want to go home."

I clench my fists. "This is your home. I want you to feel safe."

"This will never be my home. I want to go home."

"We will see. But would you rather have the paparazzi knocking at your door, harassing you in your supposed home, every second of the day? Following you, turning up at the library?"

Her breath hitches and I immediately feel horrible for this torment.

"No. But-t. Angela will be there." She sounds so broken.

"She is with Ben."

"But-t-t."

"No, she is with Ben. She will be moving out, accepting her life. Being a happy little family."

"No." The crack in her voice is muffled by the wall between us.

"I am only trying to protect you."

"I don't want your protection."

"Well you have it." _Because I am irrevocably in love with you._ I thump my head against the door. "I cannot allow you to harm yourself, Isabella. Whether you like it or not, you will be staying until you are fit and healthy. It is my duty."

"You have no duty to me, Edward. I have no ties to you."

"But you have my heart and you are breaking it." The words are merely a whisper against the wood of the door. It is unlikely that Isabella has heard them, but I know that if I could cry, then I would be. Never before, have I felt this kind of pain that is consuming me.

The gods are clearly punishing me for all the pain I have caused. All I want to do is protect the most precious thing in the world, and she hates me. She cannot face seeing me and it pains me. My whole body protests as Carlisle places a hand on my shoulder to guide me away from the kitchen. I just want to take her in my arms and hold her close.

"Come on, son."

I allow Carlisle to guide me back to the living room. Inside I make myself one promise that I will not allow Isabella to leave this house until she is mine.

* * *

><p>So guys, this is the long awaited chapter and I hope you like it. I'd like to thank everyone supporting me, as I read each and every comment, but I just don't have the time to reply and write. I did change a few things compared to my original direction in this chapter, but I hope you liked it. Sorry for any errors, I did try to work through any.<p>

Thanks again so much. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but I'm still going.


	10. Safety

***^* Fatum Lamarium *^* **~ **Nerdette Love**

**.Play List.**

It's Time – Imagine Dragons

Alone Together – Fall Out Boy

Let Her Go – Passenger

**~Chapter Nine~**

**.Safety.**

**BPOV**

It is solid, smooth and unbreakable. That is the impression I get as I slide the sensitive underside of palm across the kitchen countertop. It reminds me of the vampires that rule our world in their distant domination over us. They skulk in the shadows and flit across the night, but they are untouchable in the pedestals they stand upon above our world and in their incapability of falling prey to our weapons. In our world it is one where we have no control.

But where did they originate from? How did they come about?

All I know is that they have infested our world. They have slowly crept in to invade our every continent and sunken their fangs into our land. The powers of the world lie in their hands; America, Britain, Germany and China. This is naming of a mere few of the political power houses, but undoubtedly every country is touched by the control of the cold, pasty-handed creatures.

Therefore, this golden eyed creature that stands tall before me with his calm and soothing manner is something of an oddity. He does not exude the intimidating stance and deathly tones that many of his race do. The pale, translucent skin is still present, that defines him as not human, but he appears to have manifested human traits. His stance is casual and a smile that can be described as friendly graces his face. Although the pearly white teeth that touch his lips possess points that suggest otherwise about his state of living. Despite this, I do not feel as unnerved in his presence as he hovers at the edge of the room beside the door.

Still, I cannot forget that he is a vampire and that they are devious and deceptive creatures. If he is not going to try and unravel all of my secrets himself, I am positive he will be attempting to toss me straight into the hands of his 'adoptive son' to act as mate and brood mare. And I certainly believe Edward will attempt to eventually gain every detail about my past possible.

Momentarily on my date with Edward I had allowed myself to become enraptured in his charm and gentlemanly behaviour, and maybe become caught up in the idea. However his reactions in the parking lot remind me that he is a vampire and this behaviour is almost certainly pretence. I cannot deny that his male form is utterly exquisite and I do admire it from a distance, but I cannot allow it to make me forget that he is a vampire.

Although Edward's reactions tonight have only confirmed my fears that from now on he will never relent. He will be forever unyielding in his pursuit to claim me and the only route I see out is death. After everything I have fought for, I will not end my time this way. The only option I have is to somehow learn to accept and live with it, with him.

The situation seems so final, and I know I cannot live with Edward or at least continue things unless he understands some of my history. It is not a concept I feel particularly comfortable with at this stage, but I fear my options are finally starting to evaporate and continuing to drag out these difficulties between us is appearing more stressful than I can cope with at the moment.

Carlisle is still smiling and standing by the door as my eyes flicker over to him, as I remember he is still present in the room. His eyes are unrelenting as they watch me, filled with what appears to be genuine concern. I feel like my skin is burning beneath his watch and I attempt to find purchase on the counter with my sweaty palms, but the thin sheen of sweat means they slide across the smooth counter without obtaining a hold. So I cannot move myself backwards to hide behind the kitchen cupboards hung on the wall.

"Isabella?"

In and out; I take deep breaths as I attempt to regulate my breathing. The panic is swamping me and attempting to consume me again and drag me away from consciousness, but I battle against it. My heart is pounding, filling my ears and the blood rushes to the surface of my skin and tinges it red. It is almost a signal, asking the vampires to bite me as I display my fresh blood.

I belittle myself mentally as I attempt to pull myself together and calm my bodily reactions. Without trying to overthink things, I bring my hand up to weave into the locks of my hair that cover my neck. Slowly I draw my hair away to the side to expose my vulnerability. I bare my sins and scars naked to the world. I am not quite sure what prompts me to do this so quickly, but I feel like revealing everything whilst I do not overthink it will help me.

"Isabella, may I approach you?"

"Call me Bella, please." I nod my head in assent to Carlisle.

He is beside my side within moments, not invading my space with his presence as of yet, he merely stands a short distance away and his eyes become the cool, speculating eyes of a doctor as he assess the exposed area of my neck.

"Oh, Bella." His words are so quiet I barely hear them, but the empathy that is expressed seems genuine and that shakes me. Vampires are not supposed to me nice. My past does not display how I have been a good judge of character, but Carlisle seems to exude goodness. He so thoroughly confuses my opinion on vampires.

When I catch his eye again I realise they are filled with sadness for me and I cannot stand to view it. They do not contain the pity that would be worse, but the seeming understanding is something I cannot cope with. I drop my head and hide away from the honest concern.

The connecting lines of the grey tiles on the kitchen floor are ones that I follow with my eyes. However I am interrupted in my trailing of one when two feet enter my line of vision.

"Would you care to discuss the incident?" Carlisle's voice is full of compassion, only a soft murmur.

I take deep breaths to control myself before I look up to face Carlisle. I do so with full eye contact as I want to demonstrate my strength.

"I was 18-8." I cringe as my voice cracks. I hate the weakness in me that finds it hard to discuss these things with other people. Revealing my 'soul's secrets' might not be a pleasant experience, but sometimes I wish that when I choose to do so, I would not befall such shyness and stuttering.

Carlisle does not interrupt, prompt or even pet me to offer comfort as some people would do, and for that I am grateful. I feel so isolated at times from people, never mind the vampires, which means sometimes contact with people is difficult for me to accept.

"He was the person I thought I loved." This time I look up to gauge Carlisle's expression, aware that I am discussing _love; _an emotion I am supposed to be feeling for his son. His eyes show concern but I cannot discern anything else in them.

"I trusted him; I thought we were going places. Until-l…" I gasp and clutch at my chest as I feel a searing pain inside of me. The thought of all the betrayal and hurt that came from that time is so much emotion all at once that I find it difficult to control it. My head seems to be like a movie on fast-forward, replying all the memories and events that passed between _him _and me. They continue on repeat over and over again, not stopping just after one play. These memories are tormenting me and pushing me to the edge as they force the words that need to be said out.

"He became abusive, controlling. That's when I got this." I lift my hair again to reveal the scarring that looks so unsightly again. The skin is still red and sore looking, despite no longer being tender to the touch; it reminds me constantly of _him_. I cannot escape _his_ presence because his mark has permanently been branded onto my skin.

"May I take a closer look, Bella?"

I nod my head once in acquiescence.

Gently, Carlisle lifts my hair and moves his head closer to inspect the damage. I turn my head to the side a little so as not to see his reactions to the in-depth analysis of my bite.

"We can repair the skin and perform a skin graft if you would like to remove all signs of this scarring? However I fear that the sensations that you feel will remain from such a deep bite – his essence as such is imbedded in you. It can be potentially removed, but that would require a different discussion."

I return my gaze to Carlisle who appears to be a little bit embarrassed by the last comment, although he does not look happy about the bite. I realise the latter comment most likely has something to do with Edward. However in terms of removing the scaring, I do not know what to say. Once before I had contemplated the scar removal, but I wanted the reminder to stay away from vampires and obviously the extortionate cost to have it done properly which I cannot afford.

"I-I'm not sure." I am hesitant to say yes to something that is so monumental. I have lived with this thing on my neck for what feels like an eternity and removing it completely unnerves me.

"You do not have to decide this instance, Bella. However, I do suggest that we discuss more of the events, the particular vampire and details of your previous relationship soon. In particular Edward needs to know and I would consult him on the surgery beforehand."

I am certainly wary of Edward's reaction to all this information but I know that it is inevitable that he must know. Especially now I have told Carlisle. Although his manner in the parking lot unnerved me a little and whilst I was comforted by being removed from those vultures, I am frightened of the potential of Edward's rage when I am concerned.

"Will you-u, be there when I tell Edward?" I meet Carlisle's eyes when I question him this time.

He looks indecisive for a moment as he takes in my appearance, but finally he nods. A feeling of relief that is rather unexpected swamps me.

"Thank you."

"Let's take a look at your cuts and bruises and get you patched up. I am sure Edward will be beside himself by now." His lips twitch a little as though he finds this thought amusing, which does seem a little sadistic.

Carlisle turns away to pull open his bag, which I presume contains his medical supplies and I take the moment to allow my fingers to drift to my neck. It is not very often I chose to feel the raised skin, to run my fingers over the teeth marks. It reminds me that _he _is in there. There is very little I can do to remove him from being part of me at the moment. But to stop seeing, stop feeling the mark it means I would not constantly have to relieve the events in my mind. To see myself in my head pinned against the wall with his fangs sunk into my neck as he gouged on my skin.

He had howled in ecstasy and laughed in derision at me. He had claimed nobody would ever want me again and I could only be his and how he would tell my father of my behaviour. I had been so utterly ashamed.

Unwillingly I feel tears threaten to spill over the edges of my eyes and tumble down my cheeks into the abyss of open space. I fight to hold them in. _He _is not worth my tears, _he _is not here now, and _he _will not defeat me.

This ultimately brings me one step closer to joining and accepting Edward. There is no going back from here.

* * *

><p>"All done." Carlisle smiles reassuringly as he secures the last part of tape to my hand.<p>

It looks worse than it probably is swaddled in the stark, white bandage with the extra padding. He had removed several small mirror fragments that were stuck in my hand before he stitched it up. However because it was my hand that I use frequently, Carlisle gave me some extra padding to add to the comfort of using it, so it would not rub against the stitches.

Coincidentally it happens that it largely prevents me from doing anything with that hand too. I am positive Edward will be happy about that because he would not want his 'porcelain doll' to be injured further. _Stupid vampires. _

"If you are feeling well, I would suggest at this point talking with Edward would be helpful before you sleep. I do not want to distress you further, Bella, but he is rather agitated and I feel it would ease you both."

I nod my head in silence. After everything Carlisle seems to have done in the past few moments, I feel like I owe him a moment of my time to talk with his son and show I will try.

In the moments spent tending to my wounds, he had talked about Edward and his 'issues' and I had started to feel a little guilty about my treatment of Edward. That does not mean to say I was ready to run lovingly into Edward's arms or forgive him for everything that has happened. This does not mean to say I can even accept his vampire state or the idea of mating, but I think at least talking is needed.

"Isabella!"

I jolt slightly at the sound of my name and look up to see Edward flying into the room through the now open kitchen door. The distress in his voice is clear as it sounds strained and his face is pinched up with a frown. He looks like he is about to come and sweep me into his arms and coddle me as he takes in me, but thankfully he pauses a few feet away from me. A strained look appears on his face as he pinches up his brows even more, but he remains a short distance from me.

Carlisle moves across towards the kitchen door and tips his head with a short smile to indicate he will give us some time alone. I smile encouragingly at him to indicate that I am happy with this, since I do not intend to divulge every detail of my past experience with _him _to Edward now.

I turn my attention back to Edward once Carlisle has left the room. He seems to have been waiting for the moment when my eyes were back upon him before he begins.

"I am so sorry." He draws his hands together and begins to twist them around. All these human mannerisms are starting to unnerve me: the facial expressions and the body language. I see him moving at vampire speed and behaving in the possessive manner, but then he seems to be trying to portray human behaviours and it disturbs me. Honestly I cannot fathom why he is carrying out these habits or whether his lengthy time surrounded by humans has meant he has picked up on them.

When I catch his eyes, he seems to be pleading with me. The golden eyes look so sad and honest and I find it difficult to maintain the eye contact. I would almost compare his eyes to those of a puppy that makes you want to cuddle and comfort it, but this is Edward…

"It does not change your actions, Edward." I feel so harsh, as the words slip from my lips and the hopeful glint that had appeared in his eyes disappears.

"I know. However, Isabella, you are my first priority and always will be. The _reporters—" _Their name is followed by a deep growl from Edward "—would have followed you and harassed you. I am trying to make this transition as easy and comfortable for you as possible."

The word transition sends a shiver down my spine as it reminds me of my human state and his state of undead. He will want to replace my humanity with death eventually. To give up living is such a big step; I do not even want to consider such a thought.

"Are you cold? I can provide you with a blanket or another jacket?"

"No. I am not cold."

"Are you sure, dearest Isabella?" His smile is so broad and beaming, it displays his pearly whites to the full.

"I guess a blanket would be great."

Before I even blink he is gone from the room, with all the excitement of a child to fetch me a blanket. It is merely fractions of a second before he has returned with a fluffy green blanket in his hand. Quickly he is before me and proffering the blanket with one hand as he practically vibrates on the spot. I am honestly surprised he has not tried to cloak me in the blanket and bundle me up himself, but he appears to have learnt from trying to take total control.

"Thank you." I reach out to take it from him, and he moves to help me into it as soon as I start attempting to wrap myself in it.

I smile because I realise Edward's overprotective nature has not been held back for long. However once I am thoroughly encased within the blanket he moves a few feet away to rest on the counter beside me. It is closer than before, but it still gives me the feeling of personal space.

He then looks on with me, with what appears to be expectation of having more to say.

"I…I understand your actions, Edward. However, it does not mean I can so easily accept them. Everything is new and alien. It is all really daunting." I rub my face against the warmth of the fluffy blanket to soothe myself.

There remains several minutes of uncomfortable silence as Edward watches me with an unfathomable look.

"Will you stay the night?"

It was not quite the response I was expecting to my statement, and it rather throws me off for a few moments.

"What about the three date rule?"

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes from Edward and the sound fills up my body with a warm feeling of happiness.

"I was not inferring we would engage in intimate relations, Isabella."

"I still have no things here."

"Is that a yes?"

"Angela will wonder about me…"

"You can text Angela and we can easily find you some clothes." Edward extends his arm towards me and offers me the palm of his hand.

I slide off the counter and reach up with my non-bandaged hand to take Edward's palm. It is cool, smooth and hard beneath my own hand; like the marble of the counter. It also feels strong and stable though and maybe familiar. I cannot believe these thoughts pass through my head, but I refuse to go on lying to myself about what I am feeling. Edward does feel safe.

His hand gently closes around my own as he weaves his fingers between mine and allows it to hang between us as he gently leads me from the kitchen. He retains his hold of my hand all the time as he shows me upstairs and to the room I assume in his guest room. I am surprised by his kind and considering behaviour throughout; there is no sign of his mood swings or possessive attitude. He provides me with a t-shirt and boxers for bed and shows me around the room.

If anything, I would regard Edward as having had a personality change within a few moments.

"I shall leave you to sleep well, Isabella, for this night and I shall talk with you in the morning. Try not to have any more incidents with mirrors please. Sweet dreams, my dearest." His smile does not quite reach his eyes and he seems to hesitate in his actions, but then he vacates the room, leaving me alone.

I stare around at the room feeling a little lost and alone.

One thing I can see as I observe the room is that it is absolutely exquisite. There is one dark red feature wall and the others are a warm chocolate brown that makes the space feel homely and enclosed. It is a very comforting feeling, one that makes me feel safe and secure even deep within the lair of a vampire. I am not enthusiastic about those 'modern', spacious bedrooms so this certainly is perfect.

The bed is so large that it swallows up most of the room space, with the gorgeous wooden frame that has intricate carvings of patterns and flowers that all intertwine. It appears to be made of solid oak that has been waxed and oiled to hold a darker tone. The sheer size of the bed is so intimidating, but it looks welcoming and I appreciate the simplicity of the room.

I take several strides across the room and throw myself onto the bed. I find myself bounced several centimetres back into the air as the bed pushes back against my weight, before finally I sink into the mass of brown, red and beige pillows and duvet. A small giggle slips through my lips as the bedding moulds around me and envelopes my body. Usually sleeping in a strange bed is a little bit disconcerting; however I do not have any qualms about the sleep I will be getting tonight. Not only do I feel thoroughly exhausted after the day's events, but this bed feels almost familiar to me. My eyes are closing off their own accord as I feel myself sinking into the clutches of sleep.

* * *

><p>I stretch my arms around me, feeling a slight ache in the palm of one of my hands but nothing that is too painful. I am seeking the warm fluffy body that usually presides beside me and my hands seem to come up blank, only finding a mass of duvet and pillows. Well, the hand that can actually feel anything as I feel one of my hands is swaddled in something, maybe a duvet I cannot quite work it out.<p>

The pillows however do not quite feel familiar to the touch and neither does the duvet. Slowly I lift my head from where it was buried face down in the mass of squishy pillows. The room is still dark so it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to actually being able to make out the shadowy shapes of the room. That is when I realise I am no longer in my own room at home, and all the events of last night rush back to me. I am in Edward's house…

I am not quite sure what feelings are supposed to be overtaking me, but I feel a little bit lost in this strange bed, in a strange house. I know I agreed to stay and all the events up to getting here I remember, but it is still slightly disconcerting for the first time to awake in a strange bed and wonder exactly what you are meant to do. What was the protocol for me now?

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

Quickly I draw myself up in bed and rearrange the covers around me. At some point during the night I must have changed myself into the boxers and t-shirt and got beneath the covers as when I first laid down on the bed, I had fallen asleep largely straight away. My bandaging is still intact on my hand and in fact appears to be entirely secure so that it restricts usage, but it does not appear too hideous.

Once I am presentable, I tell whoever is at the door that they can enter.

"Good morning." The head that appears is not the one that I quite expect. It is the short spiky hair of Edward's sister, Alice that emerges from behind the door first. She is smiling rather shyly as she enters the room, carrying what appears to be dozens of shopping bags.

"Morning, Alice." My voice sounds dry and croaky to my own ears and I search around to see if there is any water around. On the side of the bed I see a cup of what I am hoping contains coffee. It disturbs me that somebody has been into my room whilst I was sleeping to provide coffee. Although I am not sure if it will be warm, so when I stretch over and grasp the cup, I am surprised to find the cup is still warm to the touch. When I draw it over to the bed towards me, I catch the strong scent of coffee that fills my senses and I just feel more awake from the very smell.

I take a big gulp of coffee and it practically burns my mouth, which suggests somebody knew I would be awake soon. The hot liquid running down the back of my throat soothes the dryness and invigorates my body making me feel more alive and sociable.

"How are you?" Alice trills as she bounces across the room towards me and flings the shopping bags across the bottom of the bed.

The bed is so big that even all the shopping bags do not reach me when sprawled across the bed. Alice hesitates at the edge of the bed, clearly indecisive about whether I will be comfortable with her so close.

"You can sit on the bed."

Her smile is so bright; I think she is going to explode out of happiness.

"Oh, Bella, we will be such good friends, I promise you."

I smile slightly in return and sip more of my coffee feeling a little disturbed by Alice. Although her personality is so kind and bright that it is hard to try and hold a grudge against her, even if she is a vampire.

"Anyway, I have bought you a whole new wardrobe here. I wasn't really sure what you want to wear so I just bought everything. I do love shopping! So we can get you changed out of Edward's clothes. I know he likes it, but there is just absolutely no need for you to be dressed like that when we can provide clothes so easily. I mean you can drink your coffee off course first and shower like humans like to, but then we can pick you out an outfit for the day. Do not worry about the cost either, I love it and we have more than enough money to buy you a few things. They really weren't that costly!"

I blink several times wondering whether Alice had stopped to take a breath at all in her speech. Then I stare at the designer names on all the bags and wonder how she can say they were not costly. To me, those things would be something I saved for, never mind dismissed as cheap. I guess this is how the rich live in that designer labels can be seen as replacement for the high street shops. Maybe tailor made is where the real cost lies or maybe they just have so much money that nothing is ever expensive to them.

"Bella!"

I turn my head to Alice who appears to have said something again whilst I was thinking about money and clothes.

"Sorry." I smile sheepishly and take another long drag of the coffee.

"Don't think about it."

"Are you a mind-reader?"

She giggles now and it is such a beautiful sound. It sounds so pure and childlike. "No, I just can see everything written across your face."

"Oh." I feel my cheeks warming up to indicate the presence of my blush.

"I'm so excited to be friends with you and take you shopping." Alice begins to bounce giddily up and down on the end of the bed.

This time I find myself laughing at Alice's behaviour. She is just so infectious in her excitement that I find it hard to reject anything she says. Out of all the vampires I have ever met, Alice is so different in her childlike enthusiasm and open friendliness.

"I hate shopping."

"Oh you will absolutely have to change that attitude, Bella! Now time to get up and ready." Alice drags the duvet away from my body, exposing me to the coolness of the room.

"Alice!"

She smiles cheekily and runs off to the bathroom where I hear the shower being switched on. I quickly gulp down the last of my coffee aware that I probably will not get to finish it with Alice's behaviour.

"Bellaaaaaa!"

"I'm coming." I swing my legs out of the bed and shuffle towards the bathroom, aware that Alice is already a whirlwind and my life will be much easier if I do not argue with her.

"You can move faster than that, you grandma!"

Alice's teasing note makes me smile. I feel some of the stress of the past few weeks slip away from me and the uncomfortable feeling of being somewhere new seems so distant at this moment.

* * *

><p>"Bella, I love it!" Alice is jumping up and down on the spot with excitement. Her spiky bobbed hair is bouncing up and down around her cute little pixie face and she is practically vibrating with happiness. It is actually infectious so despite the fact I have become almost a Barbie doll to be paraded in numerous different outfits before she was finally happy, I smile.<p>

She finally settled on allowing me to wear a pair of dark blue denim jeans, a cream silk vest with a sapphire blue button blouse that is long sleeve and draws in at the wrists with two silk band cuffs. She removed some of the bandaging on my wrist to be able to slide the blouse on and for that I am thankful as it provides more movement.

The material of the blouse is soft and slides across my skin. She has then accompanied the whole ensemble with thankfully, a pair of cream converse that have studs on to give them a slight edge, and a brown leather jacket. I manage to feel comfortable in the clothing whilst being entirely out of my element with all the different names and labels I see that I do not recognise entirely. However, I have to say the clothes fit well and are comfortable so whatever the label I cannot complain.

"Thank you, Alice."

"Oh, don't thank me. I just love doing this; I could do it all day. Oh wait, I do!" Alice starts laughing again and bouncing around, picking up discarded clothes and packing them into bags and moving them into different piles.

Within a few moments she is finished stacking up the clothing bags.

"Here is the pile that you are keeping, these I'll donate to somebody else they are quite your style but I was willing to go a little risqué." I stare at the two piles and I fear my eyes are about to bug from my head.

Three-quarters of the shopping bags have been stacked to the side for me to keep. I do not even think we got through all the clothes so I dread to think what is amongst that pile and I am positive there is a Victoria Secret's bag amongst that pile. I shudder at the thought of why she has bought that; not something I want to consider at all!

"Really, Alice, I cannot accept all of this!" I wave my hands around at the pile of shopping before me. This is probably worth my year's wages, if not more in those few bags alone.

"Nonsense, it's already paid for. Now it's time to go show you off!"

I fake frown at her. "Alice, I am not a Barbie doll to be shown around."

"Of course not, you're much prettier." She takes hold of my arm and gently begins dragging me from the room; although I am rather helpless to follow because despite her small stature she is still a vampire with immeasurable strength compared to weak me.

"Everybody!" Alice's voice is barely louder than a whisper but I hear movement downstairs to indicate people have heard.

There appears to be more than one voice floating from downstairs and I glance at Alice in alarm.

"It's only the family, they're eager to meet you. Please, Bellaaa!" She pouts and gives me this very sad eye look and I find it hard to put up any resistance to her. So I find myself helpless to her charms and I allow myself to be led downstairs to meet the 'family'.

* * *

><p>My heart is hammering against my chest the more steps we descend to the downstairs. I feel like it is going to erupt from my chest it is beating that quickly.<p>

"Calm, Bella." Alice smiles reassuringly at me and squeezes my arm.

The murmur of voices coming from the living room comes to a stop as we reach the bottom of the stairs. Alice doesn't release my arm, but gives me a moment to compose myself before dragging me into the living room to face the family.

My eyes immediately land on Edward who is standing near the back of the room; hands clasped looking a little out of place and agitated. Once his eyes meet mine he seems to settle down, he smiles brightly at me and I feel something inside myself settle to. Something that until that moment I had not realised had been disrupted.

"Bella, this is the family!" Alice swings her arm around to the rest of the people stood in the room.

I draw my eyes away from Edward to register the other bodies and faces in the room. There are two other females, and three men, one of whom is Carlisle. I recognise one of the men as Emmett who came to my aid when Edward had run away. The other two women I presume are partners of the male vampires. I vaguely recognise faces from magazines and the media, but I cannot say I am entirely familiar with them.

Carlisle steps forward first. "Bella, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Esme."

"Hello, Bella." This is the brown haired one, which is slightly smaller, curvy and has a pair of plush wide lips that fill her face and balance out her big round golden eyes.

"Hi, Esme." I wave slightly awkwardly at her.

She steps back to wrap her arms around Carlisle who draws her into his side.

"Hey, Bella. I hope you remember me, Emmet, Edward's big bro! I promise still not to bite you—" Edward interrupts him by growling, and his brother merely laughs and sticks his finger up at him. "This is my wife, Rosalie." He beams with pride as he draws forward the immaculately dressed blonde who has long wavy hair and holds herself stiffly looking like she would rather not be here.

"Hello, Isabella." Her tone is harsh, formal and unwelcoming.

"Hi-i, Rosalie."

"Finally there is my Jasper. He's still new to the vegetarian ways so forgive him for being a little distant." Jasper is the curly haired man that is hovering at the far edge of the room, but he smiles and nods his head.

"Hello, Bella." I'm surprised to hear the deep Texan accent from him, but he still appears to be attempting friendliness despite his situation.

Edward chooses this moment to weave his way through his family towards me, as Alice vacates my side, not before a quick hug to stand beside Jasper. I guess she wants to support her husband, which I guess is understandable.

"Isabella." I look up at Edward, realising he has still not adopted the shortened version of my name, unlike the rest of his family. Although I had told him he could not.

"Bella."

His eyes widen in what appears to be surprise, but then a short smile crosses his face.

"Bella, would you like some breakfast?"

"Do you have any food in?"

I hear a chuckle from somebody in the room, but I ignore it, focusing on Edward.

"There is a fully stocked kitchen and I can cook. I took lessons, actually." Edward looks a little uncomfortable at this point and he ducks his head. I would say if I knew him better that he was embarrassed by this fact.

"I would love breakfast then."

"Great." He beams at me and offers me his hand.

I take a look around at his family members all stood rather awkwardly in the room, trying not to watch us and I realise this is all affecting them too. They are trying not to look hopeful for him, but are failing rather miserably as they try to discreetly observe our relations.

Without another thought I slip my hand into Edward's hand. I watch as he interweaves our fingers and our palms seem to fit perfectly together. My hand is small enough to fit into his and his long, slender, piano fingers wrap around and encompass my hand. I realise then, this makes me feel safe. I feel like I actually belong with Edward and that when he had not been present I had started to feel like part of me had maybe been lost.

A dawning realisation came over me, Edward was becoming part of my life now whether I liked it or not. He was safety, familiarity and comfort.

"Oh, Bella, once you are finished with breakfast I would like to check your dressing and talk some more."

I turn my head to look at Carlisle and his smile is one that is meant to comfort and encourage as he stands with his arms wrapped around Esme. The whole family seem to be trying to emanate comforting tones, well, other than Rosalie who still appears hostile. I realise that Carlisle is also indicating that it is probably time to tell Edward.

I never thought about things being so swiftly unravelled, but it was going to come. I glance at Edward who is watching us with a slight frown and then I nod my head.

"Yes, I'm ready."

Carlisle looks relieved at this point and he only nods his head in return before I allow myself to be led out of the room by Edward to get breakfast.

* * *

><p>Sorry guys about the delay, things have been really crazy and I am still trying to work in between all my real life on the story to get it finished. Hope you like it. Leave me your thoughts. Thanks for sticking with me and for all your reviews so far, they mean so much to me as I read and appreciate each and every one. They motivate me to write I promise you!<p> 


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